Soul Wandering
by Silver-crowned Valkyrie
Summary: In the First Age Thranduil fought the dragons of the north, and his life was changed forever. In the Third Age another dragon walks into his life, albeit a very different one. (ThranduilxDaenerys, AU)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Please, Khaleesi. I know what you intend. Do not. Do not!"

It was Jorah Mormont, her loyal knight, who begged her not to take another step forward, but Daenerys Targaryen only smiled, as she turned to him. "I must. You do not understand."

"You are my Queen, my sword is yours, but do not ask me to stand aside as you climb on Drogo's pyre. I will not watch you burn!" he went on, urging her to listen to reason and to his plea.

She walked up to him and slowly lifted her hand to his face, looking tenderly into his eyes. He seemed distraught. "Is that what you fear?" She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and then stepped away from him, leaving him to contemplate her words.

Daenerys turned to address her people, and in the end asked for the witch that had robbed her of her child and her husband with her blood magic to be bound to the pyre. Her death would now pay for life.

"You will not hear me scream!" shouted the maegi.

"I will. But it is not your screams I want. Only your life", Daenerys responded in an eerie calmness, never sparing a glance to the woman.

Then a torch was handed to her, and she proceeded to set the pyre ablaze. As the witch started at first to chant in a lilting and shrill voice, only to later turn to crying and shrieking in pain, with the bright flames eating away her flesh, Daenerys began walking unflinchingly towards the pyre. Purpose was in her gaze, and not once did she look back. _I must never look back,_ she reminded herself in her thoughts.

Everyone else backed away in fear, as the fire grew, engulfing now Drogo's dead body. Mirri Maz Duur's screams reached their peak, tearing the silence of the night and mingling with the crackling of the burning wood. The smell of charred flesh now permeated the air, but Daenerys cared not, as she climbed on top of the pyre. There she found the dragon eggs, which she herself had asked to be placed there. The black was beside Drogo's heart; the green beside his head, and the cream-and-gold between his legs. _My wedding gifts,_ she thought _. You were not given to me for me to be parted from you, and parted from you I never will be,_ she swore.

The flames then reached her Drogo, and she crouched beside him, holding him in one final embrace. _Ride into the Night Lands, my sun-and-stars. I shall never forget you. I shall love you, always,_ she promised him. And then the heat grew intense, and an ordinary man would have fainted from the smoke, and his skin would have been scorched and ripped from his bones; but Daenerys Targaryen was anything but ordinary. She was the dragon's daughter, and fire could not harm a dragon.

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, when she was still a mere child, but the brazier had not been hot enough. And the scalding water of her bath never bothered her; on the contrary, it calmed her. She felt safe and protected in the embrace of heat. And now it was no different, only that feeling was much stronger. She felt she was born anew there, from the flames of Drogo's pyre. She felt her blood coursing vividly through her veins. She felt her heritage calling to her with a mighty voice: _Daenerys! Blood of the dragon!_

She was covered in sweat now and her clothes had burned away. Her gaze was lost into the flickering lights of orange and red that danced before her, and she felt hypnotized, entranced. The flames were so beautiful, the most marvelous sight she had ever beheld. Only now did she feel she truly began to know herself. And the call of her heritage persisted, strong and vibrant in her mind _. Blood of the dragon!_

And then she sensed stirrings beneath her fingers, where she had crouched above the eggs and Drogo's remains. _Only death can pay for life._ Something moved inside the gleaming eggs, eager to be born. With wonder and awe she looked at them, as the shells slowly broke. Three tiny heads emerged from the eggs, one black, one green, and one cream-and-gold. And then the newborn creatures crept out of the shells, and Daenerys saw their wings as they unfolded them for the first time, thin membranes that seemed almost transparent to the light. She looked at her dragons more closely. The black one had scales that glimmered red, and the green one had flecks of bronze in it. The third one was lighter, cream-and-gold like its egg had been. They came and curled their tales around her arms, and nudged their noses in her palms. _My children,_ she thought gleefully, and tears of happiness and excitement filled her eyes _. I am the mother of dragons._

And then the pyre collapsed about her, burned logs and ashes crashing around her. Engulfed by embers and smoke, her thought was to her newborn dragons. _The wings that shall bear me to my destiny. On their wings I will conquer new worlds._ She touched them and stroked their necks and tails, but her sight was becoming blurry, and her mind clouded. She felt a strange haze claiming her, and an inexplicable yearning for sleep overwhelmed her. Her eyelids grew heavy, though hard she fought to keep them open. In the end she gave in, and there in the dying cinders of the fire she reclined, surrendering herself unto oblivion.

* * *

When, after time unknown, Daenerys came round, all the heat of the fire was gone. As the weariness left her, she blinked a few times, as memories flooded her mind. She had climbed on Drogo's pyre, having taken the eggs with her. The flames had swallowed her, but she was unharmed.

A weak, shrill screech caught her attention, and she turned her head to see her black dragon hatchling staring at her with his wings unfolded. A smile lit her face then, and she brought her fingers to touch his tiny head. He did not object. _He must be hungry,_ she thought with concern.

She tried to straighten her back and stretch her limbs, feeling a little sore from the many hours she had spent in that bent and crouched position. And then for the first time she raised her face and took in her surroundings. To her great surprise, the vastness of the desert was gone. There were only trees around her, tall and ancient, with strong, dark barks and thick foliage. Grass was beneath her naked body, and the remnants of the pyre had disappeared. There was no log or coal to be seen; the only evidence that a fire had burned around her was the soot and dust on her skin and hair. The air smelled not of burned flesh and cinder, but was cool and fragrant with the scent of the forest, earthen and rich with the aromas of wet leaves and herbs.

 _Where am I?_ Daenerys wondered with dread. _What happened while I slept? What manner of magic has that woman performed with her dying breath? Where is my khalasar? Where is Ser Jorah?_

"Ser Jorah?" she called to her faithful knight, but no answer came. "Irri? Jhiqui?" she called her handmaids, but was again met with naught but silence.

A chill came about her then, as the wind blew past her, ruffling her tangled hair, and for the first time she became aware of her nudity. The wind was cold, much too cold for her liking, and she shivered _. I must find shelter,_ she decided, and peered around.

But then in the distance she heard the galloping of many hooves, and they were approaching quickly. An anxious look around revealed to her that a path was actually crossing the forest at a small distance from where she was. But what of the riders? Were they her people? Or were they enemies? Daenerys wished she had at least some piece of clothing to cover herself with. The last thing she wanted now was to invite lustful thoughts in the minds of strange men. Perhaps she could try to hide behind a tree... With that thought she made to stand, but dizziness came to her head, and she dropped to her knees, unsteady and trembling. The baby dragons swarmed around their mother, licking her fingers, begging to be fed, but when the sound of hooves became too loud, frightened they hid behind her back.

Thus found her the riders when they came upon her. It was a party of five, and they were all tall and fair, wearing majestic armor and long, billowing cloaks. To the head of the short column rode the finest of the five. He was the tallest of all and looked regal in his posture, with long, silver-blond hair that reached almost to his hips. His eyes were the hue of icy blue, and reflected the light of the day. A fine silver circlet he wore, and was dressed in the colors of grey and black. His mount was a marvel to behold, and Daenerys had never seen such a beast before, for it was an elk, tall and proud, with huge, strong antlers.

"Daro!" the leader called to the others, and they halted.

His eyes fell upon Daenerys, as she crouched on the ground, covering her nudity with her arms. Slowly she lifted her own gaze and met his, as he dismounted and carefully walked up to her. He was tall, very tall, and a faint glow was about him. She held her breath as he stood before her.

"Man le?" he asked her, in a voice deep and clear. "Pedil edhellen?"

Her silence caused him to study her more closely. He saw that she was completely naked, striving to cover herself. "Fetch me a cloak, Avorthor", he asked of one of his companions, and he complied quickly.

He then approached her a bit more, and she kept looking into his eyes, cautious, but unafraid. She had the strangest eyes he had ever seen, for no elf, man or dwarf had ever been known to have eyes in the color of the iris petals. Her face was young and expressive, with straight eyebrows and full, pouty lips. Her hair struck an impression on him as well, for though it was dirty, he could clearly see it was silver-white, a trait that was not seen in humans, and only very rarely in elves. But her ears were not elven, and she could not understand Sindarin, as he presumed by her lack of an answer to his questions.

"I do not understand…" Daenerys uttered in Westron, thinking to use the common tongue of the Seven Kingdoms, hoping to communicate in some way with that strange man. She noticed his pointed ears and his lithe form, and he reminded her of none she had ever seen before. His hair was shining bright and almost as white as hers, but he was no Targaryen. Daenerys was fairly certain that he was not human either. "Who are you?" she asked cautiously.

"Here, take this and cover yourself", he told her, offering the cloak. She took it with some reluctance, and draped it around her shoulders, feeling now somewhat safer and less exposed. "Do not be afraid. No harm will come to you", he tried to reassure her. "I am Thranduil, the Elvenking of the Woodland Realm", he introduced himself, placing his right hand on his chest and slightly bowing his head as he spoke.

Daenerys thought she caught a name in his flow of words. "Thranduil?" she asked tentatively.

"Thranduil", he nodded, and looked at her with the hint of a smile.

She nodded in return, and, mimicking his gesture, she placed her palm on her chest. "Daenerys".

His grin widened. "Mae l'ovannen, Daenerys".

But then a small, black head protruded from behind her shoulder, and looked at the strange man with glowing eyes. The other two dragonlings moved from behind her back, where they had hidden, and crawled in front of their mother, screeching again with hunger. Thranduil's countenance changed at once, as he beheld the tiny beasts, and he drew back in appalment. "Emlyg!" he hissed, his face now a mask of anger and hatred. The rest of his party reacted similarly, staring at the baby dragons in horror and disgust.

Daenerys looked at the elves fearfully now, and gathered her hatchlings close to her body. They latched onto her arms, and the black one propped himself on her shoulder, but their cries did not cease.

"Seize her", ordered the Elvenking. "She may be a witch, or a servant of the enemy for all we know!"

At once Avorthor and another elf jumped from their horses and grasped Daenerys from her wrists, pulling her to her feet. Their grip was steady and firm, but not violent. They wished not to pain her needlessly. Another elf came then with a sack, with the intent to put the dragons in it.

"Please, do not harm them!" Daenerys begged of him frantically, now on the verge of tears.

The elf halted, and looked to his King for instructions. Thranduil stood rigid, and said, "Remove these foul beasts from my sight. They are born of evil, the spawn of Morgoth himself".

"Ai, hîr nín", the elf obeyed, and with a gloved hand tried to touch the dragonlings. But they resisted, splaying their wings and baring their fangs, screeching aggressively.

"No, stop! You scare them! Leave them be!" Daenerys continued her pleas of agony, but nobody seemed to understand her.

The elf at last managed to grab the pale and the green one, which were smaller. He dropped them in the sack, and made for the black dragon. He caught him at last, snatching him from his mother's shoulder, but not without receiving a bite from him first. Angered, he pushed him to join his brothers inside the sack and tied it tightly.

"What are we to do with them, my lord?" he inquired.

"Keep them, for now, until we discover the reason for their presence. And put this woman on a horse. She will be our captive. I am certain she has much to account for!"

At that he turned on his heel and marched to his elk. Daenerys was in tears by now, mourning the fate of her dragons. She was scared and devastated, stranded in an unknown land, and being taken captive by some otherworldly creatures. Nobody understood a word she said, and she felt so alone and vulnerable again, like she felt when Viserys, her brother, was still alive, and abused her ever so often.

The one Thranduil had called Avorthor then came and bound her hands, and she did not resist. She was mounted upon a horse, and the small company took to the road again.

* * *

Thranduil and his riders rode for some hours, until at last they came to the entrance of his Halls. Once or twice during the ride he had glanced at his prisoner, but she had been quiet and sorrowful, with her violet eyes downcast. He paid her little heed.

A bridge was now before them, spanning a great distance over a turbulent river beneath. The make of the bridge caught Daenerys' attention, for she had never seen such art and mastery before. It was built out of the rock and land itself, and intricate silver carvings decorated it on both sides. The paving was of pale blue stone, and there were no protective railings. Flora grew unhindered on both its ends and hang beneath its great arch. Upon that bridge went the elves, and the sprays of the flowing waters was a pleasant feeling to her dehydrated and dry skin.

As soon as they reached the other side the small company dismounted. Daenerys was helped down by Avorthor, and then the steeds were led away by some other elves, who came to greet their King.

"Mae l'ovannen, hîr nín!" he greeted Thranduil cheerfully, and the elf-lord smiled and nodded as he passed the reins of his elk into his hands.

"Take good care of my Celairdir, as you always have", the Elvenking instructed the servant.

"Of course, my lord."

Daenerys watched as Thranduil stroked the animal's head tenderly, and heard him whispering some words to it. The elk shook its head gently, nuzzling its nose against his hand. _Is he perhaps communicating with the beast?_ She wondered.

But then the other elf came, the one who had taken her dragons in a sack. "My lord", he called. "What am I to do with these monsters?"

"Lock them in a cage, Esgaron. Provide them with some water. I need to keep them alive until I learn of the woman's purpose", Thranduil replied.

Daenerys listened closely, trying to make out some pattern in their speech, hoping perhaps to discern some of what they said, but it was hopeless. Their language sounded foreign to her ears, and resembled nothing she had heard before. _I must strive to learn that language, if I am to survive here,_ she told herself.

"And what of the woman? Where are we to put her?" another elf inquired.

"Take her to a cell, but see that first she is clean and fed."

The King then walked forth, towards the great doors of his Halls. A gust of cold wind blew past them, causing his heavy cloak to batter against his calves. He paused for a moment and turned his face to the wind, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling. Daenerys observed his profile: dark, heavy brows above a long, straight nose, deep-set eyes with thick lashes, lips well-defined and slightly downturned at the corners. Fine features, she concluded. And the rest of the King's people possessed chiseled and beautiful features as well. _What manner of fey creatures are these?_ She wondered. _At least they are not too hostile, and fortunately were not provoked by my nudity._

The sound of the heavy doors creaking as they opened, steel grinding against stone and chains being dragged and rolled, pulled Daenerys out of her musings. She turned her gaze to the gates, huge pieces of metal decorated with wood carvings and gold inlay after the fashion of the people that inhabited this place.

"Walk", one of the elves guarding her ordered her, and slightly pushed her forward. She understood she had to move then, and they led her inside the gates.

What sight unveiled before her eyes, Daenerys could have never imagined. Vast halls opened before her, built into countless caverns, and interconnected with bridges, high and low, grand and smaller ones. Massive tree-trunks penetrated the roof here and there, as they were integrated to the architecture of the place. Tall and elegant columns rose from the rock itself, and they were all adorned with carvings and engravings. The halls were lit by numerous lanterns, which hung from high branches and arcs. They emanated a soft, golden glow, and it filled the caverns with warmth, but also with dancing shadows on the walls.

When the elf gently pushed her forward again, Daenerys realized she had been holding her breath. "Careful now. Watch your step. We are going below", he told her, but she was oblivious to the meaning of his words.

He took her down a staircase, and then another, and yet a third one. A narrow waterfall then came into view on their right as they went, filling the air with humidity and the noise of the falling waters. Soon rows of cells appeared in front of them, and they were all barred with iron gates.

"Here we are", the elf announced, and unlocked a cell. "You will stay here. Servants will come with fresh water, food and clothing for you."

Daenerys could only look at him with a gaze she was certain seemed stupid to him. But what could she do? She had no idea what was going on. The elf closed the door, barred it again and left. She turned around and looked at her new accommodation. They was a narrow bed in the corner, and a wide barrel, that perhaps served as a bathtub. On the other corner was a small trestle table and a crude stool.

Bringing the cloak tighter about her, she sighed. The air down here was chill and moist, and she did not like it at all. _What do they plan to do with me? And if they take me for some kind of enemy, how will I ever prove my innocence, since we cannot communicate at all?_

She sat down on the edge of the bed listlessly. Despair began to flood her heart. _Is this my fate? To be thrown here and there, a pawn in the hands of the great ones? Will I never be able to carve my own path?_ She pondered grimly. _And what of my dragons? Oh my children! I promised I will never be parted from you, and yet, and yet…_

Tears came to her eyes, and she found no reason to hold them back. She was hopeless and exhausted, all her strength drained from her limbs and spirit. And there she sat and wept, until a voice caused her to raise her face and look to the bars of her cell.

"Greetings. I am told your name is Daenerys. I am Luineth. I came to help you bathe and dress."

It was a female elf who had spoken, Daenerys noticed. She was pleasant to look at, with bright blue eyes and hair the color of honey. She was tall and slim, like her male kinsmen, and was wearing a long, olive-green gown and a white apron. In her hands she was holding fresh linen; clothes and sheets, presumably. Daenerys surmised the purpose of her coming, and stood.

Luineth then unlocked the door and stepped inside. She placed the clothing on the bed, and proceeded to call to other servants to come. More elves walked in then, holding buckets of water, a tray of food, as well as blankets. They prepared her bath and her bed, and helped her inside the tub. The water was fresh and cool, and fragrant with herbs and flower petals. The elves scrubbed the ashes and dust off her skin and hair, and washed her clean. Daenerys allowed herself to relax a little in their care, and was reminded of her own maids, Irri, Jhiqui and Doreah. She missed them, if she wished to be frank with herself. _If only they were here!_ She wistfully thought. _Then I would have someone to talk to._

After they had dried her body and her hair, Luineth helped her put on the gown she had brought. It was light grey in color, and rather plain and unadorned, but the material was soft, and skillfully woven. A leather vest she gave her to wear on top of the gown, as well as a matching belt, to adjust the length of the hem of the dress to her height, because these were elven clothes, and clearly she was shorter that the elves. The sleeves of the gown were long and dagged, tightening a bit just above the elbow and then opening wide. The neckline was low-cut, but modest, and came a bit loose around her shoulders. _It would certainly fit better on a taller, broader woman,_ Daenerys thought. She tightened the cords of the vest when she put it on, and found that it helped her feel warmer and keep the gown from slipping off her shoulders.

"Very well", Luineth said, as Daenerys was dressed, and she gazed at her, looking pleased with her work. "Now you must rest and eat", she instructed her, pointing over to the tray of food.

Daenerys moved to the table and lowered herself on the stool. There were dried fruits and nuts in a bowl: figs, prunes and apricots, as well as walnuts, almonds, and roast chestnuts. Another plate held a piece of yellow cheese and a generous slice of bread, which was still hot from the oven and smelled delicious. Her meal was completed by a selection of greens: lettuce and spinach and forest radishes and turnips.

"Thank you", she muttered to the elves, and she truly was grateful for the food they offered her.

Luineth smiled. "Eat and rest, Daenerys. And worry not; if you are innocent as you seem, you have nothing to fear. Our King is kind, and the Valar will keep you".

Daenerys nodded, although she had not understood the meaning of Luineth's words. Then the elf-maiden and her friends left, leaving her to enjoy the meal. When she took the first bite, she realized how famished she was. _But what of my dragons? Are they feeding them too, or will they leave them to die of starvation? They seem to harbor an aversion for dragons. But why? What are dragons in this world? And what exactly is this strange world I am in?_

Such questions troubled her thoughts for the rest of the day, until at last she lay down in the bed, and sleep claimed her.

* * *

Translations

Maegi = Sorceress (maybe High Valyrian, certainly of Essosi origin)

Daro! = Halt! (Sindarin)

Man le? = Who are you? (Sindarin)

Pedil edhellen? = Do you speak elvish? (Sindarin)

Mae l'ovannen = Well met (Sindarin)

Emlyg! = Dragons! (Sindarin, sing. Amlug)

Ai, hîr nín = Yes, my lord (Sindarin)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Daenerys woke to the sound of keys turning in the lock.

"Who is there?" she began anxiously, but was relieved to see Luineth's face. She was accompanied by another elleth, and both stepped inside her cell.

"Le suilon, Daenerys! I hope you slept well", Luineth said cheerfully.

Daenerys sat up and pushed the covers aside. She blinked a couple of times, trying to chase the drowsiness from her eyes. "Is it morning already?" she muttered. She wished she would have slept a bit more, as she still felt not entirely rested.

"This is Istuives. She will be your tutor", Luineth introduced the other elf.

"Mae g'ovannen, Daenerys. It is our King's wish that you are taught Sindarin", Istuives explained. Her voice was deeper and richer than Luineth's, and her eyes were grey and sparkled with wisdom of ages past. She had dark hair, dark brown edging upon black. Her face was beautiful, though a bit angular.

And then it struck Daenerys that all the elves she had seen seemed ageless to her; it was impossible to tell whether they were young or old. The only clue to their years was, perhaps, their gaze. Comparing these two, Luineth seemed much younger than Istuives, for her eyes were bright and her look carefree. On the contrary, the tutor's eyes were deep and keen, and her gaze observant and mellow.

Istuives approached the table and unfolded the bundle she was holding, taking out the books she carried one by one and carefully placing them on the table. Luineth came as well and gave Daenerys a glass of milk along with a buttered slice of bread. "To break your fast, before you begin studying", she said.

Daenerys eyed the food she was offered with gratitude. "Thank you", she said.

Istuives turned her grey eyes to her. "Le hannon", she said pointedly. "This is our first lesson. Le hannon."

Daenerys watched her face. She meant for her to repeat the words. "Le hannon", she said after her, and the elf nodded. "Le hannon", she told Luineth, who was now smiling sweetly.

"Very well! You learn quickly", she chimed. Then she turned to Istuives and said, "She is intelligent. I am sure she will give you no trouble."

With that Luineth left, leaving the other two to begin their lesson. Daenerys consumed her breakfast quickly, as Istuives arranged the books and the quills on the table, which she brought close to the bed. She was also provisioned with candles, for the cell was rather dark, and had no other means of lighting but a lantern outside it.

The elleth picked a book and opened it to the first page. The letters of the Sindarin alphabet were drawn there in neat calligraphy. Daenerys gazed at them curiously.

Istuives gave her a quill and a piece of paper. "Now, we should begin with the basics…"

* * *

The days went by fast, rolling into weeks. Daenerys proved an avid learner, and she could now write and read some basic Sindarin. Speaking was still not so easy for her, but she was making progress. The elves had been treating her very well, but she had given them no cause to do otherwise either. She had been allowed to exit the cell and walk to the waterfall nearby, but always in the company of Luithen, who had become something like her personal guard – or jailor. Daenerys was not sure which term applied better to her situation. The small walks and the crude conversation she was able to make with the ellith did her good, for she felt not so isolated anymore. Still, her tiny cell was choking her at times, and she wished to be out in the open again. She needed to breathe some fresh air, and she also needed to see her dragons.

One of those mornings, as the lesson with Istuives was nearing its end, footsteps were heard in the distance. And then before the cell door appeared the Elvenking. Daenerys lifted her eyes from the book to look at him. He was wearing long robes in the color of olive, and a rich cloak that sheened silver with his every move, as it caught and reflected the light. On his head he wore the strangest crown she had ever seen, for it was made of interwoven twigs and leaves and berries. _Is that supposed to signify his attunement with nature?_ Daenerys wondered in her thoughts, for she had noticed how much the elves revered the natural world and all life it encompassed.

"Hir vuin!" Istuives exclaimed and sprang to her feet, bowing her head before him.

"I greet you, my ladies. I trust the lessons are going well", he began.

"Yes, my lord. Daenerys is a diligent pupil", she answered.

"Le suilon, hîr nín", Daenerys whispered, in an attempt to speak Sindarin.

Her accent had been a little off, but Thranduil smiled. "Le suilon, Daenerys. I am impressed." Then he turned to Istuives. "Excellent work, my lady Istuives."

She nodded with a grin. "We still have a long way ahead of us."

"Of course. But you would not mind if I borrowed your pupil for a while, would you?"

"No, my lord. By all means. We are almost done here anyway", she quickly replied. "Novaer, Daenerys. Na lû e-govaned 'wîn."

Daenerys nodded, and then Istuives gathered her books and left.

"Walk with me", Thranduil invited her.

She rose and went to his side, and he led her out of the dungeons. "I thought you might need to breathe some air, after all these days", he said.

"Yes, my lord. But…" she started, looking for the words. He paused in his step, looking at her with patience. "Dragons. I wish to see my dragons."

Her eyes shone with an inner fire as she spoke of her dragons, and that did not go unnoticed by Thranduil. She kept looking at him unafraid, almost defiantly. He found that he liked that about her. "I promise you they are cared for and fed", he told her plainly.

"I must see", she insisted. "Children. My children."

The Elvenking's brow furrowed at that. "How can you call the spawn of Ancalagon your children?" he demanded, now somewhat vexed.

Daenerys did not understand the complete meaning of his words. "I had three eggs. Wedding gift. Then fire, large fire. I went there. My children. Born of fire", she tried to explain things as best she could, with the little elvish she had learned so far.

Thranduil listened to her carefully, and remained silent for a long moment, staring at her, and pondering what to do. As she saw that he did not respond, she averted her eyes and sighed. "I love them. I miss them so much", she murmured.

"Dragons are evil, but you seem innocent enough. How can that be? Where do you come from?" he required.

"Not evil. Great, magic beasts, living fire. I come from Westeros, the Seven Kingdoms. Dragons come from ancient Valyria, home of dragons. My ancestors rode dragons. Great Kings and Queens", Daenerys replied.

"I know not of the places you speak of, and I have walked this Middle-Earth for thousands of years…" he uttered in disbelief, narrowing his eyes.

"Middle-Earth?" she wondered. He nodded. "I know not of this Middle-Earth. Different world?"

 _Can it be that she is an outlander? Can it be that she came here by some means of sorcery? She seems so ignorant of our world... And what are these Seven Kingdoms she spoke of?_

"Daenerys… Are you some kind of witch?" he asked her suspiciously.

She sighed in exasperation. "No witch, no! I am Daenerys Targaryen. Dragon's daughter. Blood of the dragon!"

"Blood of the dragon?"

"Much I do not understand here, and much you do not understand of me, my lord. Please, in time I will explain. Please, take me to my children", she pleaded, and Thranduil could see that she was almost desperate now.

"Very well."

They climbed a few staircases, walked over a few bridges, and at last they came into a chamber. It was small and well-guarded, and inside was a large, iron cage. The three tiny dragons were kept in it, restless and shrieking in fear and anger. As soon as Daenerys saw them, she ran to them with tears of joy and relief in her eyes.

"Oh, my beloved children! I am so glad to see that you are unharmed!" she cried in High Valyrian. The dragonlings rushed to her immediately, reaching for her fingers with her heads. They flapped their wings and cried now in excitement. She noticed that they had grown a bit, though not much for the amount of time that had passed. "Are they treating you well? Are they feeding you properly? Oh, my poor younglings…" _They need more food. Dragons grow as long as they are fed._

Thranduil stood motionless and watched this weird exchange. It seemed impossible to him that such a bond could exist between a human and dragons. Still, there she was, this woman named Daenerys, who claimed to hail from a different world, and who called the dragons her children. It was imperative that she be watched closely, and that more information be gathered.

Then, with glistening eyes she turned to him, and on her face he saw all the joy of the world. "Le hannon, hîr vuin!"

He smiled softly, and nodded. He kept watching her and pondering the situation, as she petted and talked to her dragons. "Have they names?" he suddenly wondered.

She shook her head. "I thought of names. This one", she touched the head of the black dragon, "is Drogon. After my dead husband. And the others are Rhaegal and Viserion, after my dead brothers."

"I see…" he muttered. "I am sorry for your losses. You seem so young, and yet to have known so much death…"

"Yes. My family, all dead. I am alone, the last Targaryen", she spoke somberly. A moment of silence ensued, before at last she spoke again. "Can you please open the cage?"

"What? No!" he refused immediately. "The dragons cannot roam freely."

"Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor", she responded firmly, for the first time raising her voice in front of him. And when he looked at her with befuddlement written all over his face, she explained, "A dragon is not a slave."

"Perhaps you are right, but I will not take my chances. The dragons will remain caged", Thranduil declared, drawing up to his full posture, indicating that he would suffer no objections.

Daenerys frowned, and turned her back to him. "Be not afraid, my little ones. Eat what you are fed, and you will soon grow. You will grow too big for that silly cage, and then nothing and nobody will be able to keep you enslaved anymore. That I promise you."

Having spoken thus she stood and faced the Elvenking. "I am ready to go now. Thank you for this."

"Come, I had in mind to take you outside the Halls", he offered.

But Daenerys shook her silver head. "No, my lord. I wish to return to my cell."

He looked incredulous. "But why? I thought you needed fresh air."

"I do. But I need to study your language, and explain myself better", she responded firmly, and straightened the wrinkles of her gown as she stood.

The Elvenking took in her frame. She was not really tall, even for a human. Her face and shoulders and hips seemed soft and rounded. She looked but a little more that a child, and yet those violet eyes of hers kept looking at him with intensity and a hidden fire in them. _I am the blood of the dragon._ In all his endless years, he never encountered such a person before, who kept to such claims. For even the servants of Sauron feared dragons, and nobody dared approach those terrible beasts of old. But Daenerys called the dragonlings her children. Surely it was a situation most unusual… What mysteries were tied to her? What strange world did she come from?

The only way to acquire answers to his questions was to allow her to explain herself.

"Very well, Daenerys. Take the time you need… And we shall meet again."

She watched his eyes as he spoke, brilliant orbs of blue and silver, windows to a mind most complex, still a riddle to her. She was not sure whether his last words had been meant as a promise or as a threat. Still, her face betrayed not her thoughts, and she nodded. After giving one last glance to the dragons, she whispered to them, "Goodbye… I will be back for you." And then she walked over to Thranduil, and he led her back to her cell.

* * *

More days went by, slow and uneventful in their course. Daenerys' routine consisted of waking up and having breakfast, which was always brought by Luineth. Sometimes the elleth would have her own breakfast there with her as well. Then the two of them would take a walk to the waterfall and sometimes the inner herbal garden of the healers, which was always teeming with busy elves, tending to the plants with tenderness and care. Daenerys marveled at their skill and gentle moves. Every gesture had a purpose; every touch was meant with love and care; every move was fine and ethereal, gracious and sophisticated. There was nothing base, crude or uncouth about these creatures, who called themselves the Eldar. Their speech mirrored their bearing, slow and refined and astute. Both male and female elves – ellyn and ellith, as they were called in their own language – exhibited those traits; still, the male ones were a bit sharper in their manner, and perhaps sterner, but not without sensitivity. And the female elves were softer and smiled more often, but were no less ferocious, if needs be.

And sometimes they would wander to the kitchens, where Luineth had made some close friends amongst the elf-maids that prepared the meals for the royal household. But the kitchens worked not only for the King and his court, but were open to the people of the realm as well. If anyone found themselves in need of food, or were lacking provisions and means, they could always find warm food there. The atmosphere of the place was homely and welcoming, and the air was always filled with mouth-watering scents. Daenerys was often offered treats: lemon tarts and berry pies, dried figs stuffed with walnuts, honeyed milk and wine brewed with cinnamon and orange peels. She noticed, though, that meat was rarely to be found, as elves only rarely consumed it. That came in stark contrast with the habits of the Dothraki she had come to get used to, whose diet consisted mainly of horse meat and fermented mare's milk. She never really liked that, though, and she was grateful for the elves' light and savory dishes.

At around midday Luineth would take her back to her cell, where she would be served lunch by some maid, and in the afternoon Istuives visited her with her quills and books, and they would continue their Sindarin lessons, sometimes for hours on end. Later in the evening she would read by candlelight, as her tutor always lent her a book to pass her time with, and also practice what she had learned. And when sleepiness would come to her, she would put the book aside, blow the candle and draw the covers up. During the first few weeks she found she had trouble falling asleep; the place seemed cold and scary to her, and she would be plagued by thoughts of her dragons, of her dead Khal and the life she had known, but was now lost to her. Sometimes despair would claim her, and she would silently sob in her pillow, for she felt lost in an unknown world, and was parted from her hatchlings. But as the time passed, those feelings of desolation subsided, and she acclimated to her new surroundings. She made friends with Luineth and Istuives, and learned to trust them. She was also now able to find her way to the waterfall, the herbal garden and the kitchens without getting lost in the maze of pathways, stairs and bridges that were the Elvenking's Halls. For Luineth had begun to allow her to wander on her own of late; where would she go, anyway? It was impossible for her to escape, and the elves had realized that she was unwilling to be apart from her dragons. Once or twice Luineth had taken her to visit them in their cage. They grew, slowly but steadily so, and Daenerys had asked for them to be fed cooked meat, if that was possible. That request had earned her some side-glances and grim looks, and was directly rejected. The elves refused to offer the flesh of any animal, large or small, to those horrid beasts, as they called them. So, they fed on milk, cheese, nuts and bread, but their mother could see they were not meant to eat these things. The dragons would initially turn away from the food and cry in discontent, and would only consume it when hunger became too great, having turned into a matter of survival.

Thus passed her days, and one of these afternoons she was seated on her bed alongside Istuives, nearing the end of yet another lesson. She was feeling rather tired by now, and wished to stand and stretch her limbs.

Istuives perceived her state. "Excellent, Daenerys. I am impressed by your progress", she said, as she put her quill down and closed the ancient book in front of her. "It seems your mind has a keenness for observation and learning."

"You have taught me well, my lady. And learning your language is the only way for me to communicate with you. I had no choice but be observant and learn… Besides, I have little else to do during my endless hours here", Daenerys responded.

Istuives looked around and sighed. "This dreary cell has become your home of late, has it not?" she mused.

"The King does not trust me", she remarked.

"It is because of the dragons. Your affinity to them is a mystery to us. I know not where you come from, but it must be a place very different from ours", the tutor said.

"I cannot say yet. I have seen very little of your world", Daenerys responded, measuring her words.

Istuives nodded, and at that moment the door of the cell opened and Luineth walked in. "Mae g'ovannen, my ladies. I am here at the behest of the King. He requested that I take Daenerys to him, if you are finished with the lesson, that is", she explained, and looked at the prisoner with a soft smile.

"We are finished, mellon nín", said Istuives, standing and gathering her things.

"Good. Daenerys, take this cloak. You will need it, for it is cold outside", Luineth said and handed her a folded cloak.

She took it and draped it about her shoulders. It was deep grey in color, and the hood and sleeves were trimmed with silver thread. It was soft and warm, and had a velvety feeling to it, which Daenerys instantly loved.

"Outside?"

"Yes. Will you follow me now? I would hate to leave the King waiting!"

Soon enough they were out of the dungeons and making towards the grand gates of the Halls. Daenerys gazed at them in wonder, as the bronze-clad guards pushed them open, for she had not seen them since the day she had been brought here. The creaking and rumbling marked their opening, and a gust of cold wind rushed in and caressed them with its chill fingers. Luineth stepped outside, and motioned for Daenerys to follow her, noticing that she was being rather reluctant.

"Come, Daenerys. The King is waiting", she urged her.

Daenerys took a breath and walked forth. The fresh air of the forest greeted her, enveloping her with its coolness and earthly aromas. Her eyes, now very unused to daylight, were met with the waning rays of sundown, and she had to squint and turn her face away from the west. But the deep breath she took revived her senses, and reminded her of the freedom she had been bereft of.

"Daenerys, are you alright?" Luineth worried, and touched her shoulder.

The mother of dragons opened her eyes, and nodded slowly. "I am fine. Take me to the King."

When they found him, Thranduil was standing by the great, arced bridge. Behind him were the walls of his Halls, and beyond him the vastness of his forest.

"Hîr vuin Thranduil, I brought you Daenerys, as you asked", Luineth announced.

He slowly turned and tilted his head to the side. Daenerys was standing beside Luineth, dressed in a dark cloak that accentuated the silver-white of her hair. He noticed that it was well-kempt and done into braids on the top of her head, allowing long locks to cascade loosely down her back.

"Thank you, Luineth. You can leave us now", he dismissed the elleth.

Luineth turned to go, but first nudged Daenerys in the side to bow and then approach the King. She took the notion, and bent her head before him. "My lord, I stand at your disposal", she stated formally.

"Walk with me, Daenerys. It is a pleasant evening, is it not?"

He began a leisurely pace, and she fell into step by his side. "It is, my lord. But why have you called me here?"

"It was long overdue that you took a breath of air, outside the Halls. You have been here for almost three months… I chose this mellow day, as it is not too cold, although it is late autumn", he explained.

He tied his hands behind his back as he sauntered by the riverbank. Daenerys watched him from the corner of her eye, and the thought that this seemingly pleasant meeting was in truth nothing more than a polite interrogation would not leave her thought. The King turned his eyes to the fading light far in the horizon, over the dark treetops. A calm and peaceful expression was on his face, and his alabaster skin glowed with the golden light of the sky. He wore a high-collared tunic in the hues of green and brown, which was clasped close by an intricate brooch at the base of his throat. A heavy cloak trailed behind him, adorned with small gems that shimmered as he walked. Patterns of leaves were embroidered in it with golden thread. _Such wealth,_ Daenerys thought. _But of course; he is the King. Perhaps he has a fondness for gold and riches…_

"I hear that your lessons are going well", he commented nonchalantly.

"Indeed they are. Istuives has been very patient with me. Your language is not an easy one to learn, and the languages of my world are entirely different in structure and pronunciation", she told him.

"But I already hear the improvement in your phrasing and accent… Which means that we will be able to talk more comfortably now", Thranduil said and glanced at her.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. _There; it is an interrogation, after all._ "What would you like to know, my lord?" She decided to skip the prologues.

"I would like to know about you… Who you are, where you come from, how you came to be here, and what those dragons are to you", he voiced his questions.

Daenerys nodded. She was prepared for that. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

"Stormborn?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes. My mother gave birth to me on a night of a terrible storm. She died soon afterwards. I am the third child of my parents. My brothers, Rhaegar and Viserys, are dead now. My father was King of the Seven Kingdoms… but madness took him, and he was killed by one of his knights. I am the last Targaryen, rightful heiress to the Iron Throne, and of the blood of ancient Valyria. My ancestors had been dragonriders, as I have told you before, my lord", she explained her heritage.

The Elvenking was listening to her with great interest. "I know not of the world of the Seven Kingdoms you speak of, and neither have I ever heard of the name of your House, but for my thousands of years upon this earth", he muttered thoughtfully.

She turned at him with a look of astonishment. "Thousands of years?"

"Yes… We elves are immortal, insusceptible to illness, but may still die by the sword. But we will not speak of this now. This is your narration. So please, speak on, if you may, for I would like to know more about your world and your past", Thranduil told her.

Daenerys thought for a moment how to make him understand. Then an idea came to her. "Here, my lord, look", she said and, grabbing a broken twig, she started drawing shapes in the ground before her. "This is Westeros, and this is Essos. This is Old Valyria, where my family hails from. And this small island here is Dragonstone, where I was born. To the south is King's Landing with the Red Keep, where the Iron Throne is. To the north is Winterfell, and still farther north is the Wall."

She kept drawing and explaining the basic places of her world to Thranduil. She showed him the Free Cities of Essos, as well as the Dothraki Sea, where she had spent the last time of her life, before she came to be here. Thranduil watched her carefully, interrupting her every now and then with questions and clarifications, until at last he was pleased with her explanations.

"Enough with places. Would you tell me now of your people?" he required.

The wind blew past her and lightly tousled her tresses, as she stood and gazed ahead. It was the twilight of the day, and her eyes felt more comfortable as daylight waned and night approached. The sky was painted a deep purple, and bore crimson scars, as if it were ablaze. "House Targaryen is ancient and powerful. They had lived in Valyria in ages past, and there hatched and bred their dragons. Many of them were dragonriders. The rider and his dragon share a special bond, and the dragon obeys and answers only to his rider. And even that will not come easily, for the dragons are free; they are not slaves to be commanded and used", she said, stressing the final words.

"Are they not evil in your world? For they certainly are here", the King asked.

"No. The distinction between good and evil is not perhaps as clear in my world as it is in yours. But the dragons are not evil by nature. They are intelligent and capable of both good and evil, as all living beings", Daenerys replied.

"Do you mean to tell me, then, that your world is swarming with dragons that fly wherever they wish and do as they please?" he inquired incredulously.

"No… Dragons had disappeared for almost one hundred and fifty years, and they were considered extinct from the world. You see, my lord, the latter Kings had chained them, and used them for sport, pitting them against one another in the arena. Those dragons were small and weak, and soon all of them perished. They cannot survive slavery", she explained with sorrow in her gaze. "And if you keep my dragons caged, they will surely die", she whispered.

"I cannot let them roam unfettered", he objected.

She turned to face him, and her gaze was unflinching. "They will obey me."

"Will they?"

"I am their mother", Daenerys insisted. "They would not harm anyone, if I forbade them to. And they are still so small, just babies…"

"Yes, they are hatchlings now; but in the coming months they will grow larger. And if you keep command of them as you say, who would guarantee that you would not choose to unleash them against us?" Thranduil voiced his concerns under a furrowed brow, and stood opposite her, gazing down at her severely.

"Why would I choose to harm those who have treated me with kindness?" she countered his words with sweetness in her tone. "My lord, what I said was not meant as a threat. You must not mistake my words for such. I have no purpose and no place in this world of yours. I have no friends and no enemies. I was stranded here under conditions that are a mystery to me. One moment I was mourning my dead husband, and the next I woke up in your forest…"

She paused, hey voice being shaky with emotion, and took a deep breath to steady herself. The Elvenking noticed her distress, and saw that there was honesty in her eyes. She was not lying.

"Tell me what happened to you. Tell me your story, for I am much intrigued", he urged her.

Daenerys sighed. "I was treated unkindly by Viserys. He sold me off to marry a warlord of a nomadic tribe. Drogo was his name, the greatest Khal of his people, the Dothraki, who lived and warred across the Dothraki Sea in Essos. It was hard for me, especially at first, but I came to love my husband, for although he was considered a savage by our culture, in truth he was caring and loving in his way. And he was the greatest warrior. He had never lost a battle. But one fateful day he received a wound on the chest, and it festered awfully. I was with his child, then. A woman I had saved from death, a slave, promised to help me save his life when he was burning up with fever and edged on the brink of death. But she was a witch, and out of pure hatred she tricked me, and exchanged the life of my unborn son for Drogo's. Only Drogo never truly lived, but he remained in a state of slumber, of which he never woke."

She turned slightly from Thranduil now, as hot tears formed in her eyes. His look was compassionate, and he patiently waited for her to continue her narration. "I chose to end this, for it was a living nightmare for all. I took his life, suffocating him with a pillow. And on the night of his funeral, I had his people – my people – build a large pyre. Upon it they placed his body, and alongside I put my eggs. Those dragon eggs had been given to me as a wedding gift on the day I married Drogo, the last dragon eggs known to man, and considered only a precious relic, some fancy glittering stones. Call me silly or a dreamer, but I had often felt them stir inside, when I held them to my bosom. And I thought, it was time the witch had paid for her crime. I bound her to the pyre, and her death paid for life. Drogo died, and she died, and my son died… And the eggs came alive in the heat of the flames. And I was there with them, cradling them, from the moment the flames sprang to the sky to the moment they died and all turned to ashes", she concluded her story, and Thranduil could now recognize in her gaze that fire he had seen before, whenever she had spoken of her dragons.

"You walked into the pyre and emerged unscathed, is that what you are telling me?" he asked in amazement.

"I am the blood of the dragon. Fire cannot harm a dragon", she replied with a sad smile.

"You are… a unique creature indeed", the Elvenking admitted. "I have not heard of anyone with such capabilities here in this world."

"Some of the Targaryens would not be harmed by fire, but not all of them. My brother Viserys was no dragon", she murmured, as memories came to her.

"Yet you clearly are. You came out of the flames unburnt, a true dragon…" he remarked. And how could he question the truth of her words? He clearly remembered her image the day he found her: she had been covered in nothing but ashes and soot, with the broken egg-shells about her.

Daenerys nodded. "And do you think me evil, my lord?"

He opened his mouth, but no ready answer would come. Seeing his lingering, she said, "I am not evil, and neither are my dragons. Would you please let them free now that you have heard of my story?"

Her plea caused him to stiffen. "You know I cannot do that. There may be truth in your words, but there is no proof of it. We are on the verge of war; the Dark Lord has regained his powers, and is amassing his hordes in Mordor. Dragons have always been an enemy here. I cannot allow your hatchlings to be turned into a weapon against us. It would mean desolation for all of Middle-Earth", he stated firmly.

She turned away, disappointed and hopeless. Thranduil watched her face, and for the first time it struck him how pale and drawn she looked. Her skin had been creamy white indeed when they found her, but now it was paler still, and sickly so. Clearly her weeks of strict confinement had taken their toll on her, but she complained not; she only pleaded for her dragons.

"You still do not believe me", she whispered, her gaze now lost in the flowing waters of the river beneath her feet.

"It is not a matter of what I believe; it is a matter of what truth is. I cannot risk you being a wicked creature, a servant of the enemy in disguise. Many have been the tricks of Sauron, and he has fooled even the wisest of elves. Only time will prove your sincerity", he told her.

"Then I have nothing to fear", she spoke up to him, "for I am innocent of all trickery and sorcery. All I wish for is to return to my world. But I do not know even if this is possible, as I have no idea how I came to be here in the first place. Maybe it had been one last trick of the witch, as she died… That I may never know. And I understand that I am still your prisoner. If only I had a way to prove myself to you", she sighed.

Thranduil's countenance softened by a fraction. "Do not think me a cruel King. I would not have you suffer needlessly, nor do I wish to mistreat you. Have you any complaints to voice? If so, then name them", he ordered her.

She locked eyes with him, and in the depths of his silver gaze she saw an adamant spirit, but which was also caring and just. "I have been treated well. Istuives and Luineth have been very kind and generous with me, as have been the kitchen maids. I am provided with food and clean clothes, and I have a bed to sleep and a fire to warm me. I would ask for nothing, save for the well-being of my dragons. I would ask to see them more often, and that they be allowed out of their cage every now and then. I vow to you that I am no servant of any dark lord, and that I plan no trickery. I vow this on the memory of my dead husband and my dead son, whom I dearly loved", she declared fervently.

Thranduil felt unable to remove his eyes from hers as she spoke. Her words carried power and sincerity, he could sense it. But still, his reason prevented him from relenting completely to her wishes.

"You will be removed from the dungeons. I will have a proper chamber prepared for you, as befits a Princess. You need not remain in that dank place any longer", he began.

 _I am no Princess. I am a Khaleesi. I am a Queen._ She pursed her lips tight, deciding it would be unwise to speak her thoughts. "Thank you, my lord. For that I am grateful."

"And I, and I alone, will take you to visit your dragons. I consent to more frequent visits, but they will take place under my supervision. Attempt any foul trick and the dragons will be put to death immediately", he warned with a grim look on his face.

"Then I have nothing to fear", she repeated, and her violet eyes lit up. _Now there is at least some hope. Thankfully, the King is not unreasonable…_

"I truly hope it is as you say, Daenerys", he murmured. "But, as I said, time will be the judge of it." _She must be telling the truth. I sense no evil about her. And yet, I cannot allow her what she seeks… Even if there is the slightest chance she is a servant of the Shadow… No, no, she must still be watched closely._

She nodded, and looked into the dark forest. Night had fallen, and the cold was now biting. "Would you mind if we returned to the Halls, my lord? This chill is not to my liking."

He glanced at her, as she pulled the cloak tighter about her. "Yes… The nights have turned colder of late. After all, winter is coming."

* * *

Le suilon = I greet you (Sindarin)

Le hannon = Thank you (Sindarin)

Hir vuin! = Beloved lord! (Sindarin)

Novaer, Daenerys. Na lû e-govaned 'wîn = Farewell, Daenerys. Until we next meet (Sindarin)

Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor = A dragon is not a slave (Valyrian)

Ellon (pl. ellyn) = male elf

Elleth (pl. ellith) = female elf

Khal = Dothraki warlord (Dothraki)

Khaleesi = A Khal's wife (Dothraki)

Mellon nín = My friend (Sindarin)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Thranduil spent many days thinking about his conversation with Daenerys. She had been innocent in her look and honest in her tone, and he wished to believe her words for true with all his heart. The least he wanted now was another major burden upon his shoulders, what with the war brewing in the south and the rumors that the One Ring had been found. Thranduil had never cared much about the dealings of the world outside his Kingdom, but the recent developments had forced him to stir from his seat and strengthen the defenses along the borders. The orcs had become bolder, and the spiders had multiplied. The spies of the Shadow hid everywhere, under rock and stone and behind tree and shrub. The last thing he needed now was an enemy in disguise inside his own Halls. Daenerys' sudden appearance had been strange enough, and inexplicable as of yet. But, though much he pondered and doubted, he could not bring himself to believe those purple eyes hid some evil intent. She had sounded sincere when she spoke to him of her world. So perhaps she did, in fact, have no idea as to how she came to be here…

Much as he gave thought to the matter, he could reach no firm conclusion. _If what she claims is true, it will be proved in time. Such is the nature of evil. In time, all foul things come forth,_ he kept telling himself, and bode his time, watching her and waiting. Till now, no suspicious moves she had attempted, and her only inquiry would be about her dragons. He had promised her to take her to visit them more often, and he had a mind to do so one of these days.

As he kept thinking of her, his mind involuntarily conceived her image, as he had beheld her when he first saw her, crouched, naked and afraid. How small and fragile she had looked then… And yet, her otherworldly violet eyes burned with a secret fire, which perhaps waited to be kindled. He would be a liar to deny that he was strangely drawn to her and her mysteries; she posed for him a riddle to solve.

 _She said she is the blood of the dragon. She said she came through the flames unharmed. Can it ever be true? How can I believe something so outrageous? And yet, I saw soot and ashes covering her fair skin and hair with my own eyes… What manner of creature is she? For a mere human she is not. A human, to possess the power of the fire… unheard of! And what if she is an evil witch? What if she pretends to be good, only to wait for the dragons to grow, so as then to unleash them upon us? No, I cannot risk that. I cannot allow the enemy to acquire such a weapon of destruction. Much as I wish for her to be good as she seems, I must be vigilant; I must not be fooled._

With such thoughts he stood from his desk and called his servant, a decision already having taken form in his head. "Please, inform the lady Daenerys that she is to dine with me tonight", he instructed him, and the ellon left to do as he had been asked.

* * *

Daenerys was truly enjoying the change of her lodgings. Gone were the days of the dark and dank cell. Now she had a beautiful chamber of her own, and one that had a marvelous view of the forest at that. It was located at the end of a long corridor, and one had to climb quite a few stairs to get there. She suspected that a room high enough would pose a hindrance to any thoughts of escaping she might harbor, but she minded it not. For where could she go, if she escaped? And what would be the meaning of escaping, if it was without her dragons?

She decided to make the best of her situation. _I must never look back,_ she reminded herself. _If I look back, all is lost. The elves are treating me well; and the King's suspicions are understandable. How can he trust a person from another world? Whatever I tell him probably sounds to him as strange as his pointed ears and immortal life are to me… I tell him of Valyria, and dragons, and my House, and he speaks of a Dark Lord and Rings of Power… We are so different. How can we ever hope to understand each other? And yet he is patient, and kind. Someone else in his stead might have already executed me alongside my dragons. I should consider myself lucky that I happened upon his path, fortunate in my misfortune._

 _And he looks so otherworldly… All elves look ethereal; they would never compare to us clumsy humans. But he is the fairest of them all, the most gracious, the wisest. And those eyes of his… Deep and glimmering, as if a thousand stars shine through them. Magical creatures, these elves. I have to be patient, and in time I will convince them of my innocence. The King will see I have no ill purpose in mind… And perhaps one day he decides to release my children. I only pray that day will not be too distant._

It was true that Daenerys was fascinated by the elves. She admired their celestial beauty, their unmatched grace and their polite manners. But she also noticed that they were not too warm in their expression of feeling, and were rather formal in their everyday behavior. And most of all their King. But for his kindness and generosity, he seemed remote, as if his mind always traveled to places distant. She found she could never guess his thoughts, and those cerulean eyes of his were windows to a hidden world she could not peer at. And she was much intrigued to do so. For he had learned of her past, but she knew nothing of the King, who held her captive.

Such were the thoughts in her head, as she was perched on the comfortable sofa in front of the fireplace, and her gaze was lost in the flickering flames that hungrily ate at the wood, turning it into ash and cinder. _Much like Drogo's pyre,_ she thought. She was unable to look at the burning logs and not think of her late husband. _I hope you are now riding freely in the Night Lands, my sun-and-stars. If only you knew how much I have missed you… But I am trying to be strong, as you taught me to be._

A soft knock on her doors interrupted her musings. "Yes?" she answered it.

Luineth entered then, and she bowed her head before Daenerys. "My lady Daenerys", she greeted her. "I bring word of the King."

Daenerys stood from the sofa and faced her. "What is it?"

"He wishes that you dine with him tonight. For that reason, and for you to use as you please, I have brought you a selection of gowns. They are tailored especially for you; I saw to that", she told her with a bright smile. "A Princess should have proper clothing, not the rags of a beggar."

Daenerys realized then that the details of her person had become known to Thranduil's elves. Surely, her sudden removal from the dungeons had instigated questions and curiosity among them. It came to her as no surprise that Luineth had called her a Princess.

"Thank you, Luineth. Among my people I was a Princess, while my father was King and my brother lived. To my husband the Khal, I was Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. But with all of them dead, what am I now?"

Luineth looked at her thoroughly. "You, Daenerys, are a Queen."

The mother of dragons raised an eyebrow, for she had not expected to hear such a reply. "A Queen? Some here would say I am a witch."

"No, my lady. You are no witch. You are a Queen in your own right", the elleth insisted.

"Why would you say so?" Daenerys asked, testing her.

"I look deep into your eyes, and your eyes do not lie. You have the heart of a ruler. You are strong. You are just, caring, but not weak. And you have done things unimaginable", Luineth responded.

"You refer to my dragons." The elf nodded. "And do you not think them evil?"

"Why should they be evil, if you are not? Your heart is honest, my lady. I see no evil in it", Luineth stated with certainty.

"I wish the King could see that as well", Daenerys sighed, and turned to face the flames. The fire had died down a bit; it needed more wood to be added.

"He will, in time. He is bound by his position to be cautious; he cannot allow you freedom, unless even the slightest suspicion is lifted", the elleth explained.

"I care more for the freedom of my dragons", Daenerys countered.

"That will not come too easily…"

"I know. But you do not seem to despise them as much as he does", Daenerys remarked.

"I have never seen a dragon before, my lady. But the King…" Luineth paused, biting her lower lip. "He has every reason to abhor them. But his story is not mine to tell."

"I see…" Daenerys stood thoughtful for a while, and then turned her eyes to the elf. "Thank you, Luineth. You may inform the King I will do as he wishes."

"Very well. I will return later to take you to his chambers. Farewell for now, Daenerys."

When the elleth left, Daenerys walked to her bed, on the edge of which Luineth had placed the gowns. There were five of them, neatly folded and accompanied by matching shoes and cloaks. One was deep crimson, and another a pale shade of pink. The third was light blue, the fourth purple, and the fifth silver-grey. All of them were adorned with embroidering, trimmings and gems, and were made of fine silk. She run her fingers lightly upon them, feeling the fine texture of the cloth. _Such skillful weaving and tailoring, such mastery… I doubt human hands would ever be so nimble as to create marvels such as these. The patterns, the needlecraft, the threads…_

She pulled out the rose one, thinking to don this tonight. She held it in front of her and looked at the flowers stitched along the long sleeves, the neckline and the hem. Silver details decorated the shoulders and the top of the gown, and also the cinched waistline, and run down like starlight along the length of the skirt. It was a lovely dress to look at, and Daenerys thought it would bring out the creamy white of her skin and the violet of her eyes.

Satisfied with her decision, she put the gown aside and walked to the mirror. She carefully began undoing her loose braids, and then took the brush in her hand. She would comb her hair until it glistened silver, as it should. And then she would braid part of them neatly on the crown of her head. For some reason, she inwardly wished to impress the King.

* * *

Later in the day, Daenerys found herself outside the Elvenking's chambers. Luineth had taken her there, and she said, "He is expecting you, Daenerys. You should walk inside. And be not afraid. You look astounding", she reassured her.

Daenerys thanked her with a small smile and a nod, and then the elf left. Holding her breath, she made to knock on the door, but it gave way under her fist, and she realized it was unlocked. She pushed it gently and it opened, revealing to her Thranduil's airy antechamber. There was a desk with a chair and piles of documents upon it, and a large window to the side, which allowed plenty of light to enter the room during daytime. Now, it was lit by lanterns, braziers and candles. To the back was an arched entrance, doorless and wide. Only a thin veil served as a barrier between the antechamber and the King's bedroom. The pillars of the arch were of blue-veined marble, and carved after the elven fashion in patterns of trees, branches and leaves. Pushing the light curtain aside, she slowly walked forth, looking around her in wonderment. She felt as if she was walking into an enchanted forest, for the dome of the chambers resembled the canopy of trees, and pillars supported the room, made in the likeness of tree-trunks. Boughs were carved out of them, and they reached high and entwined in complex ways, and from them hung lanterns and candle-holders. The King's bed was large and made of dark, oaken wood. A large fireplace was on the other side of the room, and a dining table stood in front of it, while plush armchairs and a sofa occupied the corner of the room, covered by luxurious draping and equipped with several cushions. The dancing flames of the burning logs combined with the soft glow of the candles and lanterns lent a warm, golden atmosphere to the place. _What a beautiful room,_ Daenerys thought _. But where is the King?_

She looked around her again, and then she noticed another doorway in the western wall. She made towards it, and saw that there were a few stairs beginning there, leading somewhere below. A faint light was coming from the lower level, and she decided to climb down the staircase. She was halfway down, when she heard a splashing sound, and stopped at her step at once. Looking over, she saw a small pool, and on the near side of it stood a figure, mostly obscured by the shadows, as the light of the room was scant. Still, it reflected on wet, silver-blonde hair, and as the figure moved, the light revealed the stern and fine lines of a profile, which belonged to none other than the King. The corners of his lips turned upwards then in a grin, and he closed his eyes.

"Daenerys. Forgive me for being late for our dinner. I think I enjoyed my bath a tad too much", he apologized nonchalantly, and unhurriedly gathered his robe from the floor and put it on.

But Daenerys could not peel her eyes from that lithe body, which was partially revealed to her through the wicked play of shadows and candlelight. She had seen those broad shoulders, the gentle curve of his back, his long thighs, and the water droplets that trailed from his hair down his spine only to disappear between his buttocks. If for an instant, she had seen him, before he disappeared beneath the soft material of his robes. The voice was caught in her throat, and she felt she was blushing like a maid, and she chided herself for that. _Gather your senses! It is not as if you have never seen a naked man before. There is nothing to gawk at!_

Then Thranduil opened his eyes and looked directly into hers, and smirked conceitedly. _The damn elf! He knows I have seen him. And, what is worse, he is enjoying it._ She inwardly huffed, annoyed with herself and her reaction.

"My lord", she found her voice again. "Forgive my intrusion. I did not find you upstairs, and then I saw this door…"

"You are not intruding, Daenerys. You are my guest. The fault lies with me, for I am unduly late for our dinner. So let us be up, and I will call the servants at once", he responded, gliding back into his usual formal manner.

She did not wait for another prompt, but immediately turned on her heel and ascended the stairs. She walked to the fireplace, and he came into the room soon after her.

"You look exquisite tonight", he told her in a deep voice.

She turned to look at him, and took a deep breath, for she had not gotten over her previous shock yet. "Thank you", she uttered. His skin and hair was still wet, and his robe clung to his body at all the right places. Frustrated, she averted her gaze, and the smirk returned to his face. _Curse him! He is aware of the effect he has on me. Which he should not have in the first place. Daenerys, what are you thinking?_

"Let us move closer to the fire. I would rather be dry soon", he suggested, and then rang a bell that hung from a cord on the wall.

They took their seats opposite one another. Daenerys wore a frown now, and cast her gaze to the flames. In their company she could always find solace. Thranduil observed her in silence for some minutes, admiring the way the light played in her peculiar eyes, and how it made her plump lips glisten. But she looked sad now, and that saddened him as well, for reasons he could not explain. He felt overwhelmed by the urge to make her smile again.

"I shall take you to see your dragons tomorrow", he told her in a quiet tone.

That caught her attention. "Will you?"

"Yes. I have promised you I will take you to visit them frequently, and I intend to keep my promise. Consider it an act of good will from my side. I expect you to do the same", he replied, stressing the last words.

"I will show you that my dragons are not evil", Daenerys said. "And I am thankful for the chance you are giving me", she quickly added, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

Thranduil shook his head. "You have earned it. You have not given me cause for grief so far. But tell me, how are you liking your chambers?" he asked, deciding to change the subject of the conversation.

"They are wonderful, a lot more than I could have asked for. Le hannon, hîr vuin. Sleep comes more easily to me at night now", she answered, her gaze turning thoughtful in the end.

"I am sorry for the hurts you suffered", he told her with genuine care in his voice, and leaned slightly closer.

"I have been through worse", Daenerys said in an even tone.

The doors opened then and servants came in, carrying trays of food and flasks of wine. They placed them down on the table and served the King and his guest. And then, quietly as they had entered, they left.

"I hope you will find the dishes to your liking", the Elvenking spoke with a small smile.

"Meat", she observed in surprise.

"Venison with plums in chestnut sauce."

"How… unexpected", she commented, the aromas of the dish assaulting her senses and making her mouth water.

"We went hunting the other day. A King needs his sport", Thranduil said in jest, his lips curving in a grin. "And I also thought that you, as a human, would like a change from the predominant greenery of our diet."

She looked at him and smiled back, noticing how his eyes shone. "I would not complain", she told him somewhat playfully, and saw that his grin widened.

"You are quick of wit, Daenerys. I admire that."

"Too quick, sometimes", she said, and smiled as she drank from her cup.

Her comment elicited soft laughter from him, and it was a sound musical to her ears. _Those elves, everything about them touches upon perfection,_ she thought.

"You are a wondrous folk… The elves, I mean", she remarked.

"I understand why we look so to you. You must be awed by our wisdom, our skills, our immortality…" he presumed, waiting for her confirmation.

"I am."

He toyed with his goblet, and his gaze darkened by a fraction. "Yet our time on this earth is limited. Many elves have already departed for Valinor. Soon we will all be gone. And those who remain will fade into nothingness; they will become naught but ghosts in the wind… Our realms will crumble, our works will fall into ruin, and we will become memory. The time of the elves is almost over", he lamented, and in his downcast eyes Daenerys could now see the sorrow of countless eons past.

"My lord", she began, wishing to attract his attention, and he looked at her. "You have asked me about my past, my family, my story. But I know so little of yours…"

"Would you like to know more, Daenerys?" he asked, locking eyes with hers.

"I would", she replied, holding his gaze.

He sat back in his chair. "I am old… Very old indeed. Do not let any elf's looks fool you, for we might seem ageless to mortals, but in truth we age in spirit and mind. And my eyes have seen so many ages of this world, so much death, so many wars, victories and defeats…" he sighed and shook his head. "But I got carried away, forgive me... I was born in Doriath some six thousand years ago. Or is it seven?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. "It has been so long that fair Doriath seems only a distant dream to me now." At that Daenerys' eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and a half-smile formed on his lips. "Yes, I am that old. Does it seem unbelievable to you?"

"It seems… strange. No creature in my world may live for so long. Not even the dragons", she answered.

Thranduil nodded. "A life so long is a blessing and a curse… for we cannot part from memories and sorrow; forever thery are etched in our hearts. And we cannot hope for death to deliver us", he mused, and fell silent for a while. His eyes were lost, and Daenerys was certain that he was reminiscing, and she did not wish to disturb him. But finally he woke from his reverie, and spoke again. "Doriath was destroyed long ago, in a terrible war I will never forget, no matter how many centuries go by. We came to Lindon at first, and there dwelled for some time. But my father eventually chose to cross the Hithaeglir, and we came to Eryn Galen… And here we have lived ever since."

"But you are King now", Daenerys noted. "What happened to your father?"

"He died in the War of the Last Alliance. That was a great war in the end of the Second Age, when Sauron was defeated, and the One Ring taken from him. I gathered the remnants of our army and returned home", he narrated, and his voice carried a mournful sound, for remembrance of these events always grieved him.

Daenerys saw his distress, and felt for him. "I am sorry", she whispered.

The Elvenking nodded. "Even today it disturbs me to look to that direction, for memory is ever vivid. We elves feel everything too keenly, and do not forget."

"It must be a burdensome trait."

"More than you can imagine", he spoke, looking into her eyes.

"And what of your mother? Is she alive, perhaps?" Daenerys inquired.

"She sailed to Valinor soon after my father was killed."

"Valinor?"

Thranduil nodded. "It is where the Valar live, a place of eternal peace and beauty. There we sail when we heed the call of the sea, and upon its shores we are reunited with our loved ones", he explained.

"Something like an afterlife?"

"Perhaps you could call it so."

"Is there someone you wish to meet there? Apart from your parents, I mean…" She asked this question with hesitation, for it was edging upon private matters, and she did not know how he would perceive it. She did not wish to sound curious or intrusive upon his personal life.

Thranduil turned his eyes to her once more, but now she could see that his gaze was liquid. He was being emotional, and he cared not to hide it from her. Her heart fluttered in her chest then, for she had not anticipated such openness from him.

"Alas, she is lost to my forever", he murmured grimly.

"Your Queen?"

"My Queen, my wife, my starlight… My Gilwen", he sighed, his voice falling to a whisper as he pronounced her name. He averted his eyes from Daenerys, and hastily wiped away a tear. She watched him in sorrow, wishing to comfort him, but she did not know how.

"I am sorry", she only murmured. "What happened to her?"

"Hers is a sad story…" he began, recomposing himself. "We met in Lindon. She was a Sinda, like me, but had Ñoldorin blood as well through distant ancestry." Daenerys' questioning gaze made him realize she knew not of the races of the elves. "Ah, the elven races… It would take long to describe to you the Sundering, and a book would serve this purpose better." At that he stood and walked over to a shelf. From there he drew an ancient tome, and laid it upon the table, pushing the plates gently aside, so as to have enough space. He opened it and found the pages where the genealogy trees were depicted, and proceeded to explain in short and plain words how the elven lines had divided and intermingled over the ages. Daenerys studied the diagrams in fascination, absorbing all pieces of new information offered to her. "So, you see, there is a distinction between the elves who saw the light of the Two Trees, and those who did not. The Sindar, the race I belong to, stayed in Beleriand. The Ñoldor went to Valinor", he concluded.

"Would you have liked to see the light of the Two Trees?" she wondered, while her imagination formed vibrant images of glorious trees that shone so much, that it was enough to light the world.

The Elvenking smiled softly. "Yes, I suppose I would."

"You said your wife had Ñoldorin blood… Had she seen their light, then?" Daenerys asked.

"No, she was born centuries after the Trees had been destroyed. But her ancestry showed in the color of her hair, which was dark as night, Daenerys. Long strands of black silk… And eyes grey as the pale winter dawn. She was the most beautiful elven maid I had ever beheld, and my heart was hers instantly", he narrated, and his eyes glimmered with fond memories. "I was lucky enough to win her affection, and before long we were married. Then, as I told you, my father took our people over the Misty Mountains, and we came to Eryn Galen. There we dwelled in peace for a time, until the shadow grew over our forest. Wars were fought, and lives were lost… And at last I came to be King, and my wife Queen beside me. We birthed a son, at the beginning of the Third Age of the Sun… But soon afterwards the orcs of Gundabad came against us, and we waged war once more. I lost my wife there, Daenerys", he said and his voice broke, and he lowered his gaze. "She was taken captive and killed by the orcs… And they flaunted her dead body in front of my eyes, and set fire to it as I watched, wrathful but helpless in my distress, for no orc death would bring my Gilwen back… They burned her body to ashes and nothing remained of her for me to bury. There is no grave, no memory… save only a necklace of white gems, the one I gifted her on our wedding day. But that was stolen by the dwarves, and I have nothing", he muttered, clenching his fist and his brow furrowing.

"You have your son", Daenerys pointed out, and Thranduil's eyes darted back at hers. "I wish I had mine. Then my grief would be lesser, perhaps."

He observed her face, how she strove to contain her feelings now, and he could see that she understood his pain and loss.

"I see now why your dragons are so important to you", he spoke quietly.

"We are vastly different, and so are our stories, but we have both known death. I have my dragons, my children, to cling to. They are everything to me now. And you have your son."

"Legolas left many years ago. He is disappointed in me… After his mother's death, I grew cold and distant. Only too late I realized my mistake; but the damage, once inflicted, is irreparable. He left to find his own destiny, and I pray one day he returns", the Elvenking sighed, and his gaze became gloomy. He took a generous gulp of his wine then, as if he wished to drown his sorrows in it.

Daenerys watched him, and thought that the elves were far from perfect, after all. They made mistakes, felt remorse, and could become estranged even from their loved ones, not unlike humans. And by looking at Thranduil's grim and sad face, she realized he was such a lonely creature. He had lived so long, fought so many battles, he knew so many things and lived in great halls carved out of stone, and was surrounded by his people and a vast forest that was his Kingdom, but inside him he felt all alone.

"I wish you to find what your heart desires", she whispered to him, and her eyes shone with compassion when he looked at her.

He gazed at her for a long moment, and then he sat back in his chair and lifted his chin, while a small smile played on his lips. "Perhaps you are not an evil witch, after all."

Daenerys laughed at his unexpected comment. _She is beautiful,_ Thranduil thought. _When have I last thought anyone beautiful?_ He mused.

"Come, eat your food before it gets too cold", he gently prompted her.

She nodded with the echo of her laughter still upon face, and picked up her fork. The venison tasted delicious, and she savored every bit of her meal. The King watched her and smiled, for her image was so endearing to him now, that it warmed his heart.

Daenerys raised her eyes to his then. "My lord, I thank you for this. But I can survive without meat. My dragons cannot", she stated, careful not to sound too demanding though.

He shook his head. "I believe there is still some meat left in the kitchens."

She smiled brightly. "Le hannon."

"Tomorrow I will take you to them, and you can feed them yourself. I wish to witness the bond you share with them… And you promised to show me how your dragons are benign", he reminded her.

"I will."

Thranduil nodded, and picked up his fork as well. He tried only little of the meat, but chose to consume the plums and the salad instead. He refilled their cups with wine, and he drank to his heart's content. Daenerys drank her share too, and she felt relaxed for the first time since she had found herself in this strange world they called Middle-Earth. And when the evening was well in its course and would soon give its place to night, the King called his servants and they took away the plates.

Daenerys stood from her chair then, and straightened the wrinkles of her gown. "It was a most enjoyable evening, my lord. Thank you", she told him.

He stood opposite her, tying his hands behind his back. He bowed slightly before her then, his hair cascading like a silver waterfall, and Daenerys caught a brief glimpse of his chest, as his robe had come a little loose, and revealed a small part of his skin beneath his throat.

"The pleasure has been mine", he responded. "You must have understood by now that I have chosen to trust you", he told her, and his eyes held an unprecedented intensity in their depths.

"I will not betray your trust", she declared, looking straight into his eyes, matching him in intensity and resolve.

He smiled then, and allowed his gaze to ghost over her figure. Much as he had resisted, he could not but notice her enticing curves, how her dress accentuated her bosom and hips, and how different from the elf-maids she looked. But he brought his eyes back to hers before they wandered too far, and he restrained his derailed thoughts. _It is the effect of the wine,_ he told himself. _I had too much._

"I must bid you goodnight now, my King", Daenerys said, very aware of his hazy and dancing gaze.

"Yes. Goodnight, Daenerys. Loro vae", he wished her.

He led her out of his chambers then, and Luineth came to pick her up and show her back to her rooms. He closed the door and turned the key in the lock, and then walked to his bed and lay down on it. The crackling of the firewood was the only noise now, and the Elvenking found he missed Daenerys' laughter, which still ringed clear in his ears. Sleepiness came to him, and he drew the covers up, while her image was still vivid in his mind. _It must be the wine,_ he thought again, and then fell asleep.

* * *

Translations

Loro vae = Sleep well (Sindarin)

* * *

 **A/N:** _A great many thanks to all who have read, favorited and reviewed the story so far! Your support keeps me going!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

True to his promise, Thranduil made for Daenerys' chambers the following morning, with the intent of taking her to the dragons. In front of her doors he stood now, and softly knocked on the carved wood.

"Daenerys?" he called.

In a moment the door unlocked and opened, and the silver-white head of Daenerys appeared. "Good morning, hîr nín Thranduil", she greeted him, and smiled. "I had been expecting you", she added, and pushed the door open wide, offering him entrance.

The Elvenking stepped in, and glanced at her, as she hurriedly walked to a chair by the bed, where her cloak had been carelessly draped. She was wearing the light blue gown, and shone like the waves of the sea with sunlight. Her hair was done in three braids that met on the crown of her head, and her tresses hung loosely beneath the intricate pin. _Beautiful._

"Of course. I told you I will take you to your dragons, and I mean to keep my promise", he responded. "Have you broken your fast yet?"

"Yes, Luithen saw to it. She has been very kind to me, and lady Istuives as well. We continue with the lessons, and my grasp of Sindarin is improving by the day", Daenerys said with a fond smile. "I must say I found your language difficult at first, but I like it. The sounds are unique, and you have words that express emotions so well."

Thranduil lowered his eyes momentarily and smiled. "Yes, Sindarin has this quality. I am glad that the lessons are not a nuisance to you. Well now, if you are ready, shall we go?"

"We shall."

They left her rooms behind, and made for a long corridor. Thranduil walked not too fast, but measured his pace, so as not to force Daenerys to run to keep up with him. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye. He was dressed in a silver-grey tunic today, and had a sword strapped on his belt. _Clearly he wants to be ready for whatever might happen,_ she presumed. His long hair caught the light of the lanterns as he went, descending like a waterfall of starlight upon his back. On his head he wore a crown of holly and mistletoe, for winter was come. _He is so tall and majestic. And his hair… Not very much unlike Targaryen hair. Perhaps Rhaegar looked a bit like him… Or I would have liked him to. Alas, I have known him only through the stories. But now I like to imagine he was a little like the Elvenking, tall and proud and magnificent… a true dragon. But how will indeed Thranduil react to the dragons? Will he allow them out of the cage?_

Such questions danced in Daenerys' head, as they walked mostly in silence. At last they came to the chamber where the dragons were kept, and the King ordered the guards to grant them passage. They complied at once, and soon they walked in and found themselves face to face with the beasts in the cage.

"Oh, they have grown!" Daenerys exclaimed and rushed to them. The little dragons reached with their heads and nibbled on her fingers. "Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion… my furious children, how much I have missed you", she whispered to them, as tears rose in her eyes.

"How do you find them, then?" Thranduil asked and approached her, standing behind her crouched silhouette.

"They have grown", she repeated, "but not as much as I would have anticipated for their age." A sigh followed, and she turned her violet eyes to him, now deep and pleading. "They need to feed on meat more often, my lord. They are dragons, not rabbits."

The King huffed and looked away, contemplating her words. _Can I truly allow them to grow unhindered? Can I allow them to hunt for their food?_

"You know I am right", Daenerys pressed on.

Finally he looked at her. "We shall see. I can make no promises now", he replied curtly, and she was silenced.

The dragons screeched and tried to unfold their wings, but they bumped against one another. "The cage is small. They hate this confinement", their mother muttered.

Thranduil knelt carefully beside her, and peered at the wondrous creatures. Rhaegal looked back at him with curiosity, and made to approach him, but the King drew back.

"Do not be afraid. He will not harm you", Daenerys assured him in a velvety tone.

He assessed her for a short while, and she nodded with a smile. He extended his hand then, and grasped the bars of the cage. The green dragon flapped forth, and touched his fingers with his nose. Thranduil gasped. The dragon's skin was not cold, as he had anticipated, but hot as an ember, and yet not unpleasantly so. When Rhaegal made to bite on his hand, Daenerys reproached him. "Rhaegal! Do not harm him. He is my friend", she spoke in High Valyrian, and the dragon recoiled.

"What did you tell him?" Thranduil wondered, watching the exchange wide-eyed and amazed.

"I told him you are a friend", she explained quietly, and petted the green dragon.

"And he drew back", Thranduil noted.

"Yes. They listen to me. They obey me. I am their mother", Daenerys declared self-assuredly.

"Is that a trait inherent to all your people?" he asked.

"Not all. Not all Targaryens could walk through fire unscathed. My brother Viserys could not. Not all of them could train dragons", she replied, remembering how Viserys died, unable to withstand the heat of molten gold, and her gaze darkened.

"But you can."

"I am the dragon's daughter. I am the blood of the dragon, a true dragon myself", she stated stubbornly.

The Elvenking peered deep into her eyes. "And can you train your dragons? Will they obey your every command?" he inquired intently.

 _He is up to something. But what?_ Her gaze traveled back to the hatchlings. "I do not know. You must know, my lord, a dragon is not a slave to be ordered around. They are wild beasts, free of will. If they obey their masters, it is out of respect for them, and because they have chosen to. It is not something you can impose by force", she explained.

"You say that often. A dragon is not a slave."

"Because it is true."

He nodded. "These little beasts here seem to like you well enough. And they obey you. You told the green one – what was his name, not to bite me, and he did not", Thranduil remarked.

"Rhaegal. Yes, he obeyed me. He is the most perceptive of the three, I think. Drogon is the fiercest, and Viserion, well… he is the most playful", she said with a soft smile, as the cream-and-gold dragon coiled his tail around her hand. "I share a bond with them, and that bond is unbreakable. But I do not know what will happen if I disappoint them."

"I see…" Thranduil muttered, while his mind was racing. "And did you intend to conquer your Seven Kingdoms with your dragons, when you were in your world?"

Daenerys closed her eyes and breathed deeply. How far was that dream now? "I still do, once I find a way out of your world, my lord King. In my world, I am the rightful Queen, and I will take what is mine with fire and blood."

Her violet eyes burned with their secret fire then, and inside them Thranduil saw determination and purpose unexpected from a woman so young. "I admire that", he said with a small smile. "But would you do the same here, I wonder?" he asked her under a raised brow.

Daenerys' countenance turned serious. "What do you mean?"

"If your dragons are not evil, as you say, they can do good. They can aid us in our war against Sauron. Would you do that? Would you remain loyal to me, and pledge me your help? In return, I vow to do everything within my power to help you find a way back to your world. In the meantime, you will be treated as the Queen that you are." He looked at her intently, while her brow remained furrowed and her lips pouty. "What do you say, Daenerys? Do we have an accord?"

"Even if I conceded, it would take time for the dragons to grow. And they will need to fly and hunt freely. I do not condone cages. Dragons are not chicken", she replied.

He smiled. "I understand that. If I accede to that, will you do as I asked? Will you fight for us, to help overthrow the Dark Lord and free Middle-Earth of his dominion? Your dragons would make a vast difference in the war. Thousands of lives would be spared. Is that not important?"

Daenerys turned her thoughtful gaze back to the dragons. They were only babies now, but in the months to come they could grow large, if fed properly. Could she do as he asked? Could she risk their lives?

"And if I do not agree to your proposal?"

Thranduil sighed. "Why would you not? Do you not wish to return to your world?"

"Is that blackmailing, my lord? Do you threaten to keep me captive here, if I do not choose to aid you?" she spat angrily.

But the King was unfazed, and his deep, ancient eyes shone with tranquility. "If the Dark Lord prevails, nothing of what we discuss now will be of import. Our realms will crumble, and all will turn to ash and ruin. And even if you survive, the sleepless Shadow will claim your dragons. If his dominion is absolute, nothing and no one will be able to stand against him. His malice will sweep through the land like black wings of doom, covering everything is his shadow. All hope will be lost. You will never be able to find your way back."

"You paint such a dark picture", she commented with doubt in her tone.

He shook his head. "I have seen the horror of Mordor, young one, and I cannot forget it. Even the mightiest of my race fell beneath Barad-dûr. There my noble father was slain, and Gil-Galad, the High King of the Noldor, and so many more… Alas, if Sauron wins the oncoming war, it will be the end of all things", he lamented, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

He then reached for the cage once more. Rhaegal flapped his wings and cried, and then touched him with his nose. "It was no threat", he muttered. "I would not wish to visit grief upon you. But in the darkest of times, one must turn even to the most unlikely allies", he told her, and looked at her with sincerity in his eyes.

"You would let me go free, then", she said tentatively.

"You are already free. Do you wish to go?" he asked her with a flicker in his gaze.

Daenerys pondered the prospect. If she were to go, where would she flee? She had no idea of the land and its people. She had no weapons, and three little dragons to protect. There was a good chance she would happen upon those orcs Thranduil had mentioned, and that would mean her death, or worse. And, she was entirely ignorant of how she could ever leave this world. Her brow furrowed. _Thranduil knows all of this. He is no fool. He has me, and he has me for good. I have no choice but to stay, and do as he pleases, at least for now. At least until my dragons grow._

She turned to him. "No. Where would I go? I am a stranger here, and you have treated me kindly."

"You were lucky to happen upon our path. Had you been found by the enemy, I cannot tell what might have befallen you…"

She nodded. "We have an accord. I will be loyal to you, and fight for you, when the time comes. And you must help me return to my world", she briefly repeated the terms of the agreement.

"The knowledge of the elves is vast, and there are some amongst us far wiser than I am. If there is a way for you to go home, we shall find it", he promised her.

"Very well. And now unlock the cage, please", she demanded.

The Elvenking looked at the dragons. It still struck him as an oddity that these beasts were not the spawn of Ancalagon, and not evil by nature, but free and untamed in their own right.

Seeing his reluctance, she repeated, "Unlock the cage, or there is no agreement at all."

Thranduil felt his ire rising at her aggressive and audacious manner, but he managed to contain it. He gave her a steely glance, and his lips were drawn into a thin line. "Himeldir, bring me the keys", he ordered a guard.

When Himeldir returned and handed the keys to Thranduil, the King bade Daenerys stand. "Here, take them", he said as he pressed the keys in her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, cool skin against warm.

 _He has chosen to trust me at last,_ Daenerys thought. "It is time I proved to you my dragons are not evil, as I have promised you."

Having spoken thus, she turned the key in the lock and opened the door of the cage. At once Drogon sprang forth and onto her arm, his claws digging into her skin for purchase. Rhaegal followed, and Viserion hopped forth last. All three of them cried and splayed their wings, enjoying the freedom of space and movement. The green dragon flew to his mother's shoulder, and the pale one snorted, and plumes of smoke came through his nostrils. Drogon took the cue and his jaws parted, producing a long column of dark smoke as well.

"Impressive", Thranduil uttered.

"It will not be too long before they breathe actual flames", Daenerys remarked with a bright smile. To be in such close proximity to her children filled her heart with immense joy.

Then Rhaegal turned his head towards the Elvenking, and flapped his wings. "It seems to me he has taken a liking to you. Here, take him", she said, and extended her arm towards the elf. He hesitated, looking at the little beast in disbelief. "Do not be afraid", Daenerys breathed, and touched his elbow. Rhaegal then descended from her shoulder, and, using her arm as a bridge, passed on to Thranduil's arm.

"Unbelievable", he stammered, as soon as she retracted her arm and he felt the full weight of the dragon.

Daenerys smiled. "Is he not beautiful?"

Thranduil slowly, carefully raised his arm, and looked at the dragon more closely. "Rhaegal", he said his name. The hatchling screeched, and rewarded him with a breath of black smoke and a flap of his translucent wings. The King drew back instinctively, but the green dragon extended his neck, wishing to touch him with his nose.

"Let him. Do not be afraid", Daenerys said again, and came closer, taking Rhaegal and placing him on Thranduil's shoulder.

The closeness and the heat of the dragon made his heart race. Or was it the closeness of his mother as well? Rhaegal licked Thranduil's pointed ear, and he gasped, startled.

Daenerys laughed. "He is getting to know you."

The dragon then went on to nibble lightly on his ear, clearly intrigued by its peculiar shape, and the Elvenking began to slowly relax. He got used to the dragon's weight on his shoulder, and he found that the nibbling on his ear was not an unwelcome sensation. Furthermore, he noted that the dragon's scaly skin was not cold as a serpent's, but warm, as the living fire that he was.

Daenerys watched him and smiled, pleased that he got on so well with her children. "See? They are not evil at all."

"Not in my wildest of dreams would I ever think that the day might come when I held a dragon in my hands. I lost so much in dragonfire, and yet here I am, cradling a dragonling", he reflected.

"The dragons of your past were different. Mine come from another world. They are not the same. Please, remember that always", she asked of him.

Thranduil returned his attention back to Daenerys. She looked much more peaceful now, and contentment shone through her eyes. "Shall we feed them?" he suggested.

She laughed merrily. "I am sure they are starving!"

Then Thranduil ordered the guard to bring what deer-meat was left, and in a while he returned with a large platter of raw meat and a knife. The King lay the platter on the ground before them, and removed Rhaegal from his shoulder, placing him down next to his brothers. The little dragons approached and sniffed at the meat, but they did not touch it.

"Why will they not eat it?" Thranduil wondered.

"They like it roasted", Daenerys replied, and, cutting a chunk, she rose and took it over the hot coals of a brazier. When she returned and tossed the meat at the dragons, they fought amongst themselves for it, biting, clawing and shrieking. "You see now?" she laughed, and repeated the process.

The King nodded, and took more cuts to the brazier. Daenerys tore a piece and held it out for Drogon, while his brothers ravaged another large chunk. "Thranduil, look", she told him. "Dracarys", she whispered to the dragon, and the Elvenking turned just in time to see Drogon, who was the largest and the most ferocious of the three, angrily breathing out smoke at first, but stubbornly he tried again when his mother repeated the command, and again, and on his fourth attempt a wisp of a flame came through his jaws. The meat was instantly roasted, and the black dragonling devoured it hungrily.

Thranduil was astounded, and he locked eyes with Daenerys. "Dragonfire is the hottest there is", she said.

"He breathed fire", the King uttered.

"I told you it was a matter of time they would. Drogon is the biggest and the wildest. I knew he would breathe fire first", she commented. "Now will you bring those meat chunks from the brazier, before they are utterly burned?"

He made to do so, and only then did he realize Daenerys had called him by his name only, forgoing all titles and styles. He was so used to being called "My lord", or "My King", that to be named otherwise nearly made him feel uncomfortable. _Nobody has called me by my first name in a very long time,_ he mused. _When did I allow such a manner of ease between us? Things transpire here that are beyond my notice! This woman, the mother of dragons, has enthralled me. I should be more careful,_ he chided himself.

"My lord?" she called, pulling him out of his reverie.

"Yes, they are properly roasted now", he replied, and returned to her side.

They continued feeding the dragons for a time, until the little winged serpents were sated. "They already look stronger and larger to me", Daenerys said. "As long as a dragon is free and feeds regularly, he can keep growing, only it gets slower after he reaches maturity."

"I cannot imagine the day they will be fully grown", Thranduil said, watching them as they now turned to play with each other, not forgetting to include their mother in their games as well, gifting her with stray scratches. But she did not seem to mind them at all.

"One day they will be huge and magnificent, like Aegon's dragons", Daenerys responded dreamily.

"Aegon?"

"Aegon the Conqueror. He and his two sister-wives conquered the Seven Kingdoms with their dragons, and thus began the Targaryen dynasty", Daenerys said.

"Sister-wives?" Thranduil felt puzzled. "How can one marry his own sister? Preposterous!"

"Such was the tradition of Old Valyria, and of House Targaryen as well. The blood-line had to be kept pure. The affinity with the dragons should not be lost by thinning Targaryen blood with blood of other families. It sounds strange to you, as it was for the people of Westeros, when Targaryens first settled there, but it served a purpose most important", she explained.

They were interrupted then by Viserion's pained cry, and Daenerys turned her attention to the dragons. "Drogon! Leave your brother be!" she shouted to the black dragon, who had been clawing at the smaller, pale one for some time now. Drogon turned his head to his mother and screeched, but in the end he relented, and crawled away from Viserion.

"They can be dangerous", Thranduil noted.

"Of course. They need to be trained. Especially Drogon; he is fierce and aggressive", Daenerys agreed.

"I noticed you speak to them in that strange language of yours…"

"High Valyrian. It is the language of Old Valyria. They understand it better than the Common Tongue", she replied, taking hurt Viserion in her lap.

"Would you teach me your language?" the King asked.

A curious smile lit her face. "Why?"

"I find it most appealing… And I would like to communicate with the dragons, if ever that becomes possible", he answered her.

"You taught me Sindarin… I do not see why I cannot teach you High Valyrian. The lessons will also help me fill my many empty hours", she replied.

Thranduil nodded. "Excellent, then. We shall use the library of the Halls for this purpose, for there silence reigns, and the lighting is soft and ample, and we will be undisturbed."

 _The library, a good idea. There I will also be able to scour through the ancient tomes of the elves for information about how I might leave this world,_ Daenerys pondered. "We can begin as soon as you like, my lord", she offered kindly, disclosing nothing pertaining to her thoughts.

"Come next week, we shall. I need to attend to some more pressing matters during the weekend… Those obnoxious dwarves of Erebor will never leave me at peace with their trading demands", he huffed.

"Dwarves? I would like to see a dwarf, one day", she expressed her wish.

"Short and stunted, ugly creatures, who care for nothing but gold and wealth! Stubborn, noisy, avaricious, vain… Why you would care to see a dwarf is beyond my comprehension!" he exclaimed.

Seeing him so vexed amused Daenerys, and she laughed. "I should better not speak of dwarves again", she spoke in jest.

He looked at her smiling face, and his annoyance faded. For a short while he allowed his starlit gaze to drown into her indigo pools of fire and mystery, finding a strange sense of calm in them. But then he straightened his back and said, "I believe we should be going now. My council awaits me."

Daenerys stood as well, allowing little Viserion to hop off of her. "And what of the dragons? You will not cage them again, will you?"

"No, I suppose I can allow them a small measure of freedom within the walls of this chamber", he replied. "Daenerys", he then called her name, and ever so lightly touched her sleeve. "You have spoken true. You said your dragons are not evil, and here today you have proven it to me. Therefore you can now wander freely in my Halls, unaccompanied, if so you please. You may also wander outside the Halls, but I advise against going beyond the gardens and the training grounds, for darkness and peril lurks in our forest, and you are unaware of it and unarmed."

Daenerys was pleasantly surprised by his gift. "Le hannon, hîr vuin. I promise I will not give you cause for grief."

He smiled faintly and nodded. Her eyes then fell to his fingers, which were still grazing her arm. _His touch is soft and cool, like flowing water, like a breeze in a hot summer day. And not without care._ But then he removed his hand, and slightly bowed his head before her. "Queen Daenerys, allow me to take you back to your chambers now", he spoke rather formally.

"Of course".

She turned to glance at her children one last time. They swarmed closer to her, sensing that she was about to leave, and their cries of complaint filled the air.

"It seems to me you will be missed dearly", Thranduil observed.

"But I will be back again."

At that she decisively spun on her heel and made for the door, with the King by her side. On their way to her chambers, she looked around her carefully, counting steps and bridges and memorizing turns and hallways, so as to be able to find her way to the dragon-chamber again, should she wish to. She should not rely on anyone to get her anywhere, now that she was free to roam by royal decree.

At long last they reached her doors, and he stood opposite her, smiling. "I hope you enjoyed yourself", he said.

"I did. And for that I am grateful."

"You can visit the dragons as often as you like, as long as you remember how to get there… But the dragons cannot leave the chamber. On that I am adamant", he stated.

"I understand. I do not seek to exploit your goodwill, my lord. And I shall find other things to occupy myself with. Your halls are vast and wondrous, after all, and there is still so much for me to learn here", she assured him.

"Very well, then. I shall tend to my affairs and leave you to rest. Novaer, Daenerys", he told her, looking into her eyes.

She curtsied. "Novaer, Thranduil."

 _There it is again, that familiarity. But… I think I like it. It is refreshing._ Wish such thoughts in his head he turned and marched off. Daenerys watched him as he walked away, long cloak billowing about his strong legs, and for a brief moment the image of his naked body returned to her mind. She shook it off as a silly notion of her loneliness, but still she could not avert her eyes from his receding silhouette. _I must not lose sight of my purpose,_ she thought, and stubbornly turned and locked the heavy, wooden doors behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Several days passed uneventfully. Daenerys enjoyed her unconstrained freedom, and often chose to wander on her own. She visited the dragons almost daily, and made sure they were fed. They had begun growing faster now, as a result of their improved diet and their being out of the small cage. The rest of her time she passed as before, spending her hours studying Sindarin and visiting her new friends around the Halls, for her presence had been welcomed and liked by the kind-natured elves. But outside the Halls she did not dare go on her own, for fear of getting lost in the woods, or happening upon orcs and monsters. She had not forgotten Thranduil's warning, and she was no fool to ignore it. Still, the darkness of the forest intrigued her, and she wished she could go out there one day.

One of these afternoons she was relaxing in her room, resting on the sofa before the fire. She had just had a bath, and her hair was still wet. She was clad in a soft silken robe of creamy white, and had a warm blanket draped over her legs. Her thoughts were a mixture of images: her dragons, Drogo and his pyre, Viserys, her khalasar, her silver mare… all these she had left behind. And here new images flooded her mind: the vast forest, the deep, cavernous Halls with their intricate architecture, the elves and their uniqueness, and their King.

Daenerys pondered her situation for a moment. In a few months' time she had managed to rise from a captive to a Queen, for she was truly treated as a Queen now. She had been given many gowns, riding attire, slippers and boots, jewelry, brushes and powders, herbs and fragrancies and soaps… Her bath would always be ready and hot, and her hearth warm with fire. Her pillows were soft, her meals rich and delicious; her every demand was answered. There was nothing she would complain about, for the elves had structured a perfect life for her, and placed her in it to live it.

And so she lived, and the days went by. But there was something missing from her life, something she had when she was alone and dirty in the Dothraki Sea, with none but Ser Jorah to cling to. She had a purpose, she had a mission. She had a reason for living. Now, she felt like a puppet, pretty, but void of meaning.

 _I must find something to do here, something to make me feel useful._ _There is so much time in my hands, and I must put it to use,_ she decided. _I might ask the King about that. He may suggest a post to assign me to, or find some other occupation for me._

Then a knock on her door was heard, and Daenerys allowed entrance. "Good afternoon, Daenerys", a familiar voice spoke, and she raised her eyes from where she sat only to behold the King.

He was dressed in garb of leisure, long robes tied loosely about his waist and exposing the long column of his white throat. Their color was a deep crimson, and he looked regal and commanding. On his head he wore no crown, and his hair fell in glistening, straight strands below his shoulders, unbraided and unadorned, as he always wore it.

"My lord Thranduil", she said and sat up immediately.

"I trust I am not interrupting your rest", he said, and approached the fireplace.

"You are not", she answered, rising from her seat.

He glanced at her as she moved. Wet hair, cascading like melting snow on her back. Thin robes accentuating her figure. Gaze relaxed, and fixed on him. "The issues with the dwarves took longer than I had estimated", he began. "I had hoped we could have begun our Valyrian lessons sooner."

Daenerys smiled. "There is always time for that."

"Of course."

She remembered her courtesies then. "But come, sit, my lord."

He nodded his thanks and took a seat on one end of the sofa, lightly pushing her blanket aside and leisurely crossing his legs on the knee. "Are you cold?" he wondered, tracing the woolen texture of the blanket with his fingertips.

"The nights have gotten colder, admittedly. I am not used to the cold", she replied, standing now next to the fire.

"You are born of fire", he remarked.

She gave him a playful look. "Not exactly… But I do enjoy the heat."

"Unlike I", Thranduil said. "I have always felt more comfortable in winter than in summer."

"I noticed your skin is cool to the touch…" she said, but immediately regretted it. _What am I thinking, commenting on the feel of his skin? He may get the wrong idea about it!_

But the King simply nodded, seemingly oblivious to her thoughts. "It is so with all elves. Unlike your skin, which is like fire to touch."

She knew then his comment was pointed, and his intense gaze confirmed it. _What does he want?_ She decided to evade it. "I am the blood of the dragon, and dragons are fire made flesh."

"I have known that all too well", he murmured, and in an instant his eyes fell and his brow furrowed.

Daenerys noticed the change in his demeanor. She left her place by the fire and came to sit on the opposite end of the sofa. "My lord?"

He lifted his eyes. "Never mind", he said, dismissing his darkening thoughts. "I would not speak of dreadful stories tonight."

But she noticed his persistent frown, and felt compelled to comfort him. "Is there something troubling you, hîr nín?" she asked.

He looked at her, almost glowering. "You sound like my wife now. She would never leave a matter to rest until she knew the whole of it", he said, sounding somewhat irritated.

She smiled bitterly, and her face showed compassion. "You miss her."

Thranduil sighed, his irritation dissipating. "Terribly. She has been dead for nearly two thousand years now, but the memory is always near. The pain has faded over the time, but it has never really left me."

"Two thousand years? That is a long time. Have you not considered remarrying?" Daenerys wondered.

"Remarrying? That would be most unusual. Extremely few have been the cases when an elf has remarried, and that is because we mate for life. We do not choose our partners idly, neither are our marriages feeble, like some human ones. It is the strongest bond an elf can forge, and remains unbreakable, even after one partner has passed away", he explained.

"It sounds so romantic… To love someone forever, truly, and to be faithful to them. I wish humans were like that as well... but…" she sighed, remembering the vile customs of the Dothraki.

"I understand that humans in your world do not differ much from humans here", Thranduil said.

"Apparently."

"And what category do you fall in? Are you romantic, or feeble?" he asked her with great interest in his tone.

She quirked and eyebrow. "I have never thought to categorize myself. And… I have known no other man besides my husband… who is dead now."

"You still love him."

"I do. But his death has been so recent. It is the nature of men for our hearts to mend as time goes by", she replied.

"Perhaps one day you will love another, then", he whispered.

"Perhaps", she said after him. "Have you ever loved another?"

He shook his head in negation. "That would be exceedingly improbable."

"But not impossible", she said with a smile, and then stood from the sofa. She walked over to the fireplace and added some more logs to burn. Thranduil noticed how she cared not to keep away from the fire. Her hands touched the flames, but not the slightest harm would come to her.

"Impressive", he muttered.

"What?"

"You are unburnt. You touch the flames like I would touch water."

She smiled again. "Need I say once more that I am the dragon's daughter?"

The Elvenking laughed heartily, a sound deep and lyrical to Daenerys' ears. "It is one thing to say it and another to witness it", he said.

She glanced at the dancing flames, and their wild dance reflected in her indigo eyes. "I suppose it is", she murmured.

A moment of silence passed between them, during which only the crackling of the burning wood would be heard. And then Daenerys spoke again and said, "What was your purpose of coming here this evening, my lord? Surely it was not for idle chatter."

"Why not?" he asked with a smirk.

Her knowing glance forced him to drop the pretenses. "I merely wished to see how you are faring, and to converse with you, for I find all you have to say fascinating."

"I am faring well", she told him rather curtly, and her silence that followed prompted him to speak on.

"I also wished to invite you to a walk in the woods tomorrow. It is going to snow tonight, and by the morrow the woods will look majestic, white and crisp with snow and ice. You can take with you one of the dragons, if you wish, to give him a chance to fly freely. What do you say, Daenerys?"

Her face became one of gratitude and enthusiasm. "Would you really do that for me?"

He smiled and rose from his seat, coming to stand close to her. "Why would I not? I did not forget what you said about the dragons needing their freedom, in order for them to grow unhindered."

"I gladly accept your invitation, hîr vuin. And I have been wanting to go out in your forest for some time now", she told him with shining eyes.

"Then be sure to dress warmly, for it is going to be freezing", he said softly and smiled at her.

Daenerys smiled back. "You are kind and generous, my King. I was truly fortunate to happen upon your path."

"I treat my guests with honor. My wrath I save for those who defy me", he replied, but though spoken in a spirit of mirth, she could see the steel and ice in the depths of his eyes. It was a jest, as well as a warning.

"You speak like Aegon the Dragon would have spoken…" she whispered. When she saw the question in his eyes, she said, "He was an enigma to many. Kind, generous and forgiving to those who bent the knee, but unyielding and wrathful with his enemies. He was a solitary person, with very few true friends. And he remained faithful to his sister-wives…"

"It does sound as if we share some traits", Thranduil admitted. "And was this Aegon loved and well-remembered in song?"

"He was the greatest King that has ever lived", Daenerys replied, and looked into Thranduil's eyes.

He took her meaning and gave her a half-smile. "Do not seek to flatter me, Daenerys."

"I do not", she replied frankly.

They kept looking into each other's eyes, until Daenerys felt a little uncomfortable under his intense silver gaze, and she averted her eyes. Thranduil sensed her discomfort, and stepped back, choosing to return to his place upon the sofa.

"I expect that you will be ready by dawn tomorrow", he said.

"By dawn?" she turned to him with an incredulous look about her.

He laughed. "Is that too early? No, I would not want us to miss the wonderful light of the rising sun. You will appreciate it and thank me once you see it."

She tilted her head to the side, causing her now dry locks to caress her shoulders. "You speak of light often", she noted.

He nodded. "We elves love the light. All light is sacred to us. But the light of the stars we love best."

"Why?" she inquired, and came to sit beside him, not minding the closeness this time.

"When we awakened in Cuiviénen, there was only the night sky embroidered with the stars above us, and only their pale, silver light to guide us. These were the times before the sun and the moon were created, Daenerys", he reminded her.

"Yes, I remember you telling me about the Years of the Trees. It mystifies me, how two trees provided all the light of the world…" she mused.

"There is abundant lore on that, and many ancient scrolls in the library for you to read, if you would like", he informed her.

"I would. There is so much to learn of your world, and since now I am a part of it, I would like to know as much as possible", she told him. Then suddenly she remembered the question she had meant to ask him. "My lord", she began, and he turned his eyes to her with interest. "There is something I would like to ask you about." He nodded and gestured for her to go on. "I was wondering if it could be possible that I took up some occupation here, seeing that my daily routine is filled with many empty hours. Would you object to that?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Why would I object? But have you anything specific in mind?"

A small smile lit her face. "I find I like the herbal garden, and healing thereafter."

The King smiled in return, but before he had the chance to speak, a knock on the door was heard, interrupting them. Daenerys stood to her feet and made for the door, saying, "It must be Istuives. We are to have a lesson."

And truly, the dark-haired elleth appeared on the threshold, as soon as Daenerys opened the door. "Good evening, my dear", she greeted her, but then noticed Thranduil too. "Hîr nín Thranduil, I did not expect to find you here", she said and bowed.

The King rose and waved for Istuives to stand straight. "It is alright, Istuives. I shall not linger here. You may begin your lesson." Then he turned to Daenerys. "You may visit the herbal garden as often as you like. And our appointment stands, Daenerys. Do try to be ready on time", he told her with a grin, and then walked to the door.

"I will", she promised, and watched him as he went.

He said he would not linger, and yet he paused on the doorstep, and gave the mother of dragons one last glance. She held his gaze, determined not to look away this time. In the end it was he who yielded; he spun on his heel and marched off.

* * *

The day dawned crisp and bright, with a veil of snow covering everything, as the Elvenking had predicted. There he stood now, on the near end of the bridge outside his Halls, and waited for Daenerys. He was clad in a warm surcoat and cloak of silver-blue, with embroidery in the likeness of stars. Upon his head he wore a fine silver circlet, adorned with a single white gem. On his belt his sword was strapped, for he would not go into the woods unarmed.

Before long the grand gates creaked open, and Daenerys walked through. In her hand she held a rod with a chain attached to its far end, and there the black dragonling was tied by the foot. He flew above her head, and was larger than Thranduil remembered him. _He must be the size of a dog now,_ the King thought. He flapped his wings against the air with excitement, as he truly used them to fly for the first time. Their span had grown, and they seemed less translucent now, but thickened and leathery instead. Black was his body and scales, and his horns, spinal crest and eyes blood red. He was a marvel to behold, and the Elvenking stared at him in awe.

"You see him now as he should be", Daenerys spoke as she approached him. "A dragon must fly."

He removed his eyes from the beast and turned them to her. "Indeed", he admitted. "I see you chose to bring out Drogon first."

"Yes. He is the one I have the strongest bond with. And he is the largest of the three, and most unruly. He needs training", she told him.

"Come then, and he shall have the chance to taste freedom", the King said, and began walking.

Daenerys stepped beside him. She was wearing a heavy, fur-trimmed cloak in the color of earthly brown. Beneath she chose to wear leather pants and boots, and a warm, woolen tunic under her leather vest. The cold was biting, and she did not wish to take her chances.

"It is as you had said", she began. "Snow covers everything, and the light of dawn makes it glimmer like pearls and diamonds."

The rays of the sun tore through the sparse clouds, illuminating the world beneath. They fell upon tree and leaf, and upon rock and thorn, showering them with golden light. Fir, holly and ilex shone in their wintry glory, retaining their green in defiance of the season. The path upon which the pair walked was covered in fresh snow, and it cracked and crunched beneath their steps. Thranduil walked with his chin slightly lifted in the air, and with half-lidded eyes. If Daenerys looked closely, she would see he had a soft smile upon his lips.

"This is the beauty of winter", he said in a quiet tone, enjoying the feel of the cool morning breeze upon his face.

"You do seem to enjoy it", Daenerys commented, while she pulled the furry trim of her cloak closer to her face, trying to ward off the cold. On her right hand Drogon kept pulling persistently, begging to be released.

Thranduil turned his eyes to the dragon, whose flapping had become more noisy and inconsistent. "Let him go, Daenerys", he suggested. "Let him fly above the trees."

She looked at him thoughtfully. _What if Drogon gets lost? He is but a baby…_ one voice told her. But another said: _no, do not be silly. He is a dragon, and he is bonded with you. He will know how to return to you instinctively._ In the end she nodded. "Alright", she said, and lowered the chain. Thranduil helped unfasten it from Drogon's leg, and the dragon thanked them with a loud shriek. And then he took to the sky at once, beating his wings strongly against the wind currents. Daenerys and Thranduil watched him as he ascended. He circled above them a few times, and then flew off into the distance.

"I do hope he finds me again", she said worriedly.

"He will", the King reassured her. "I do not believe he will fly too far, anyway. He is still small, and he will seek your protection soon."

"Do not mistake a dragon for a kitten. They are wild, untamed creatures. Drogon will do as he pleases", she said. "But he needs to hunt. I hope you do not mind one or two hares less in your forest", she said mirthfully.

Thranduil shook his head. "I have deep respect for all life, from the smallest animal to the oldest tree. But such are the laws of nature, that some beasts must prey on others to survive. As long as the balance is kept, life flows harmoniously. If it is disrupted, I shall immediately feel it. As the sickness that covers the southern part of the forest…" he sighed.

"What do you mean you would feel it? How could that be?" she inquired.

Thranduil looked at her as he explained. "The elves are one with nature. We cannot live apart from it. And this forest is my realm. I am its sovereign and protector. I share a bond with every living thing in it. And if something goes awry, I sense it."

"It sounds like the workings of magic to me."

"I would say it is more like the bond you share with your dragons. Inexplicable, but real."

"And what of the sickness you spoke of? What is this?"

Thranduil let out yet another sigh. "It pains me to speak of this, but I shall tell you nonetheless. Since long now a shadow has fallen upon these woods… When the Dark Lord returned to Middle-Earth, he made his stronghold upon Dol Guldur, a hill in the southern region of the forest. There stands an old elven fort, which used to be our residence once. But the Dark Lord claimed it, and since then evil and darkness seeps out of this accursed place, tainting the woods around it, poisoning and corrupting all life. And though he has been banished from Dol Guldur and fled to Mordor, his Lieutenants remain there, the terrible Nazgûl, and thus his influence continues. My forest is sick, Daenerys. It has lost its former beauty and glory, and I can feel its torment and decay with each passing moment", he finished his narration and turned his now sorrowful eyes to her.

Daenerys watched him with sadness. This ancient creature, a spirit of nature, felt too deeply the plights of the forest he called his kingdom. She gave a look around; all she could see was trees and bushes, birds flying from bough to bough, and squirrels occasionally rustling through the foliage. The forest looked dark indeed, with its olden trees, trunks thick and gnarled, branches reaching far above and twining with each other, at places barring all light from reaching the ground. And it was silent, perhaps unusually so, as if all life was asleep. But she could not feel the evil presence Thranduil had spoken of. She could not sense the influence of any Dark Lord, and she could not see the constant deterioration Thranduil could see. To her it seemed only a forest, a bit dark perhaps, but then again she had not walked in many forests.

"It must bring you great sorrow, to feel all these things so keenly", she commented quietly.

He inhaled deeply. "You cannot even begin to imagine the measure of sorrow it brings me."

"I am sorry", she muttered, not knowing what else to say. "I hope one day your forest is restored to what it once was."

"For that to happen, Sauron must be overthrown."

"Is he such a terrible foe?" Daenerys wondered.

"He is shapeless, formless… a black spirit of great power that seeks dominion over Middle-Earth. He possesses vast knowledge, and he is cunning beyond perception. His servants are countless, and he has eyes everywhere. But for him to regain his full power, he must first obtain the One Ring, forged by himself, and in it he has poured all the malice of his spirit. He is bound to its fate, and the ring ever seeks to return to its Master", the Elvenking said. "You must understand, Daenerys, Sauron is the embodiment of pure evil. There is nothing good in him, nor any hope for him ever to repent for his horrid deeds."

"And you think my dragons, once grown, will help defeat him? Is he even vulnerable to fire?" she asked him.

"He was defeated once, he can be defeated again. The more powerful weapons we have in our armory, the better our chances to win this war. And dragons are the most powerful of weapons, as you, too, very well know, Daenerys." Her thoughtful look prompted him to speak on. "Do not give me wrong. I do not seek to exploit you, nor is my courtesy feigned. Such things are not in the nature of elves. But when in dire need, you seek all the help you can get."

"Yes, you have told me so before."

"Forgive me if I repeat myself, but…" he sighed. "I have lost too much in the wars against evil. I have seen the destruction of fair cities, and the desolation that follows. I have witnessed the decimation of armies, and countless of my kin die… even my own family: my father, my wife… I have tasted the bitterness of war, and I abhor it. I vowed to never again engage in the dealings of the world, choosing to remain secluded in my Halls, and for some long years I did so. But I cannot sit idly now, when the Shadow threatens our very existence. I have to be ready for the oncoming war", he told her firmly.

They came now upon a small lake amidst the trees. They were sparser here, and the still, silver waters shone icy clear under the rays of the sun. Around its shores a flower grew, its blossom small and bell-like, with snow-white petals and bright green stem and leaves. Daenerys left Thranduil's side and approached the shore, curious to examine the beautiful flowers. She dropped to one knee and, taking off one glove, she carefully traced the delicate petals with her fingers.

The King came to stand beside her. "It is called Alfirin… immortal. We also call it Uilos, ever-white. It blooms all year round."

"It is beautiful", she said softly, and her eyes shone bright.

He crouched next to her, and picked one flower. Daenerys watched him with her breath caught in her throat as he nimbly pinned it in her braid. "Not as beautiful as you", he whispered.

Caught unprepared, she kept staring at him with her lips slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed by the cold and by her embarrassment. He let his fingers lightly trace her temple, as he slowly removed his hand. But he did not remove his gaze, which was now deep and emotional, a thousand stars shining in the depths of his eyes.

 _He is mesmerizing. Those eyes… I can look into their depths forever,_ she mused. "Thranduil…" she began breathlessly, and it seemed to her that he leaned closer.

 _How can I tear myself from those violet pools? How can I forget the way they look at me, full of want and unspoken desire? Not once in so many eons have I felt such thrill, such overwhelming emotion,_ the Elvenking thought, and brought his index finger gently beneath her chin. He tilted his head a little, and she stood there, heart beating fast and waiting…

And then a loud screech tore the air, and they suddenly broke apart, as if struck by lightning. Daenerys looked away, red as a beet, and Thranduil sighed. Meanwhile, Drogon came to land in front of them, flapping his wings over the surface of the lake and spraying them with cold water unintentionally.

"Drogon! Stop that!" Daenerys mock-reprimanded him, and laughed, thankful that her child had provided her with a means to quickly escape the difficult position she had been put in and get over her disconcertment.

The dragonling squawked in response, and craned his long neck forth, to nuzzle his nose in his mother's hand. Thranduil observed them in amusement. "See? He easily found his way back to you."

"Yes. He is intelligent", she said with pride in her eyes. "How was your first flight, Drogon? Did you manage to hunt anything?" she addressed the questions to the little dragon, as she lovingly pet his head, eliciting cries of delight from his part.

The Elvenking lowered his weight upon a flat rock, while Daenerys was occupied with Drogon. He allowed his gaze to fall onto distant trees, but his focus was not on what he was seeing ahead. _What would have happened, had the dragon not appeared? Would I have kissed her? Ah, I allowed myself to be carried away far too much. I was under the effect of the serenity of the lake, and the beauty of the flowers, and her proximity… It cannot be that I have feelings for her. It is unreasonable. I am merely fascinated by her peculiar story and her dragons. I should not misinterpret my feelings._

"Hîr vuin?" Her voice pulled him out of his musings.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps we should return home. Drogon does not seem willing to fly off again, and I admit the cold has chilled me to the bone. I very much miss my hearth now", she said and stood, fastening now the chain on the dragon's leg.

"Of course. Let us go back."

Silently they walked side by side back to Thranduil's Halls, neither of them willing to bring up their almost-kiss, though it vividly danced in their thoughts. Both kept to their own, battling themselves and their feelings. Who would win, only time could tell.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Daenerys saw Thranduil again, winter was well in its course, and she had been a guest in his Halls for over four months. They had agreed to begin linguistic lessons, because the King had expressed a wish to learn the Valyrian language. But he postponed their start for a few weeks, and Daenerys guessed it was because of his uneasiness around her. And, truth be told, she was glad for it, because she did not wish for a second incident of embarrassment and discomfort to take place between them.

Her mind had often drifted to that day in the forest, though. Sometimes, when she sat in the library reading some ancient lore book, she would catch herself daydreaming about his near-kiss, his emotional gaze, the tenderness of his touch on her cheek… And her mind would also conjure up the image of his naked body, bathed in dim light and glistening with droplets of water, as she had seen him all those days ago in the privacy of his chambers. But as soon as she would realize her treacherous thoughts, she would inwardly scold herself, and force herself to concentrate back on what she was reading.

And she had read much about the lore of Middle-Earth indeed. She made good use of her ample time, and decided to take things in chronological order. And so she learned of Eru and the Ainur and the creation of Arda. She read about the Years of the Trees, the awakening of the elves, and their first Kings. And she learned who Melkor was, the one the elves named Morgoth and waged so many wars against, until he was cast into the void. And she discovered that Sauron was his mightiest servant, and that he had always craved power. She read of the great elves of the First Age, of Fëanor and the Silmarils, and of his sons, and the consequent kinslayings. She read of King Elu Thingol, and his daughter Lúthien, and the love she bore for the mortal man Beren. Amongst all the stories of elven lore Daenerys read, the story of Beren and Lúthien she liked best, for it was a deeply romantic, and yet a tragic one. But more she learned through her readings: how the Rings of Power were made, how dwarves became greedy under their influence, and mortal Kings turned into accursed wraiths… But the three elven rings were free of Sauron's taint, and they were blessed with qualities of healing, restoration and preservation. And more she read about the War of Wrath, the destruction of Beleriand, and then the Fall of Doriath, and Eregion… and how things came to be as they were nowadays.

Into the pages of such a tome she was wandering now, fascinated by the tale of Númenor and its downfall, when Thranduil entered the library, noiselessly walking on silent feet, as only an elf could. But he saw her seated there before a desk, head propped on one hand, her face and hair illuminated by the warm candlelight, and his heart sang in joy, for she was such a lovely sight to behold.

"Daenerys", he spoke softly, not wishing to disturb her.

At once she looked up from the book, and a small smile graced her fine features. "My lord Thranduil… I received word that you wished us to have a lesson this afternoon, but I did not expect you until dusk", she said.

"Idleness took the best of me, and I could not linger pointlessly in my chambers. I came here to read some poetry, but now that I see you are here already, could we perchance begin the lesson earlier than appointed?" he asked, trying to keep his tone formal, but not cold.

"Of course", she replied, setting her book aside.

The Elvenking took a seat opposite her and glanced upon its cover. "Of Beren and Lúthien", he read aloud. "Such a lovely story. Sorrowful, though."

"And thus in anguish Beren paid, for that great doom upon him laid, the deathless love of Lúthien, too fair for love of mortal Men; and in his doom was Lúthien snared, the deathless in his dying shared; and Fate them forged a binding chain of living love and mortal pain", Daenerys recited by heart.

"You impress me", he said with glistening eyes.

"I have read it quite a few times, and I have come to remember it wholly", she told him with a small smile.

"I can tell you like it."

"Oh, I do. To give up your immortal life for the one you love is extraordinary, in the least", she commented.

His gaze intensified. "But is it not what love is about? Sacrifice?"

She lowered her eyes. "That is a rather idealized view of love…"

"If it is not selfless and pure, then it is not love", Thranduil declared.

Daenerys brought her eyes back to him, and searched his; they were deep now, laden with distant memories. "You have shared such a love…"

"I did", he only said, and his gaze was momentarily lost in the flickering flame of the candle on the desk. "Have you not?"

The mother of dragons fell silent. Could she call Drogo a pure and selfless love, a true love by Thranduil's strict standards? She had been sold to him; they had not chosen each other. He had treated her gently enough, contrary to what she had expected. And she came to love him in the end; she admired his strength, his commanding presence, his passion. And he loved her in his own Dothraki way. But he was taken from her too soon. How would things have been, had he survived? Was he meant to be her true love, her only love? Daenerys was not certain.

Finally she lifted her gaze. He was watching her patiently, silver-blue eyes looking at her with serenity. "I do not know", she whispered, unable to lie to him. And what would be the point of lying anyway?

But he saw that she had become sorrowful, and he did not wish to sadden her heart. "Well, then. Let us put aside these books of yore, and focus on the present", he cheerfully suggested.

Daenerys was more than happy to oblige. "Right. My reading of lore shall wait for another time. You are here for the lesson." She drew forth paper and quill, and passed one to Thranduil. "We shall begin with the letters. I warn you, my lord, High Valyrian is very different from Sindarin", she told him with a smile.

"I have noticed as much. I have heard you talk to your dragons. How are they faring, by the way? I have not seen them since our walk in the woods…"

He had spoken without giving much thought to the words, but they were out there now, and he could not take them back. It was as if a secret pact had been made between them, not to talk about their intimate moments in the forest ever again. But here it slipped from his guard, and he instantly regretted it.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, before they both looked away, as if they were guilty of something. But Daenerys sensed that his slip of the tongue was not deliberate, and sought to salvage the situation. "They are faring well, my lord. And they have grown much. Drogo's head is almost the size of a wolf's now, and his brothers are only slightly smaller. I fear their chamber will soon be too small for them."

The King looked at her with gratitude, for choosing to focus only on the dragons. "Very well. Then I shall have a place deep within the caverns of my Halls prepared for them. There they can have all the space they need… and they will be well concealed from prying eyes. I do not wish the Dark Lord to discover them. And now that they are grown, you should be more careful when taking them outside the Halls. The spies of the enemy are everywhere: crows and snakes and spiders report to him daily of what they see."

Her countenance turned serious as she heard his words. "Yes, you are right. I would not want to risk my dragons, and neither would I wish to attract the attention of Sauron on your realm. You have been so kind to me; I would not wish to cause you harm in any way", she told him in earnest.

"I know", he softly spoke and nodded. Then he took the quill in his hand. "Shall we start, then?"

An hour passed, during which Daenerys could testify that Thranduil was an apt student, with a natural talent for languages. He would listen to her teaching carefully, and would easily commit new vocabulary and grammar rules to his memory.

"Well, my lord, if you continue like this, you shall be able to speak Valyrian properly in a matter of weeks!" she announced happily, when at last they decided to put the books to rest.

He smiled. "Why, I am an old elf with much free time in his hands… What better use for it than learning a new language?"

She laughed, and he laughed along. Their eyes met, as their smiles slowly faded, and the connection was there; they could both feel it. But they were not ready to comprehend and embrace it.

"You are not really that old…" she teased him, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Oh but I am, I am… Have I told you I have met Lúthien in person, whilst in Doriath?" he spoke with a gleam in his eyes.

Daenerys stood stupefied for a moment. She remembered that he had once told her he hailed from Doriath, and that he was indeed several thousand years old, but she had never put it into perspective. Now, after having read so much lore, she could at last understand how much his eyes had seen.

"Oh… I should have thought…" she muttered.

He smiled at her puzzlement. "It is not for mortals to comprehend the lives of the elves. But I did meet Lúthien, for I often saw her in court in her earlier years, before she met Beren. My father was a nobleman, one of King Thingol's councilors. Therefore, life at court and mingling with the royal family was an everyday occurrence for us. Still, Lúthien truly was as legend has it. Tall, with hair black as night and eyes grey and shining, she was the most beautiful elven maid that has ever lived. But the most wondrous of her qualities was her voice, Daenerys. Sweet and melodious, it could turn winter to spring and dead leaf to bloom. Such was her majesty and appeal", he described. "Poor Daeron, the King's great minstrel… He was hopelessly in love with Lúthien, but his love was fated to remain unrequited", he mused.

"I feel sorry for him. A love unrequited can lead to awful things…" Daenerys said.

"Jealousy, blindness, injustice… Yes, it can bring about disaster", the King sighed.

She nodded, and they fell silent for a while, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. The library was silent. They were almost alone in it; only another ellon was there, noiselessly pacing among the rows of the bookshelves, apparently searching for a specific document. And when he found it, he exited the chamber, and now Thranduil and Daenerys were completely alone. Only the crackling of the firewood could be heard, in the two great hearths on the northern and southern walls of the library. Daenerys had sat on a small desk in a quiet corner, but now Thranduil eyed the fire and the comfortable seats before it.

"The fireplace looks appealing to me, and the air is chill. Would you like us to relocate there?" he suggested in a smooth tone.

She glanced outside the large, arced window. Night had fallen for good, and the wind carried the thin flakes of new snow, as it began falling upon the dark forest. As if drawn to it by some unseen tether, she rose from her seat and walked close to the window, placing her hands in the hollow sill and leaning slightly forth. She observed the white snowflakes as they danced their way to the ground, kissing leaf and thorn alike.

"How long do winters last here?" she asked, ignoring his question.

He stood and walked behind her, looking ahead over her shoulder. A faint smile curled his lips, for he had always loved the image of his forest during wintertime. "Three months it is, though the chill may very well continue into early spring."

"Three months? Such a sort time…" she muttered.

"Short?"

She briefly glanced up at him. "In my world, seasons last for years… It was summer when I was there, and it had lasted for around nine years… And the winters can span decades, long and harsh and unforgiving, as they say. But my memories are mostly of summer", she narrated.

"It must be difficult, to live in persistent cold – or heat, for that matter…" he observed.

Daenerys nodded. "People hate the winters, and they long for the summers, only to curse the heat when it comes", she commented with a small smile. "They hate the winters not only for their cold and snow and rain, but because dark things awaken when the winds of winter blow cold from the north… They say the Others walk in winter like ghosts in the fog, white and unseen in the vast snow-covered plains… Perhaps it is only superstition, but no one can tell for sure."

"You speak of dark things… What are these Others? Some wraiths?" the King surmised, and in his mind he imagined the Others as Nazgûl, only white in color.

"I cannot really say. I have only heard tales as a child, of undead men walking in the cold of winter, seeking to end all life in earth. But no one has seen them, and I think these are only stories to scare the children", she replied.

"You would be surprised by how much truth such children's stories often contain…" he mused. "In this world, darkness and evil is very real, and the world has felt their wrathful and destructive touch many a time."

Daenerys shifted on her feet uncomfortably, feeling a shiver running down her spine. "I dislike this talk of cold and evil… Let us sit by the fire, as you said."

He nodded and led her over to the hearth, where they sat in plush armchairs. A round, trestle table was in front of them, and some books were abandoned on it. In front of them, the orange and red flames burned bright, hungrily licking upon the wood.

"This is much better", she told him with a smile, gesturing towards the fire.

He softly laughed. "I know. I will not say I am not grateful for the relaxing warmth right now… My days of late have been hectic, burdened with tiresome tasks and dull conversations I had to attend and observe. Ruling and being King is such a dreary job at times", he sighed.

"Is it?"

"Of course… In times of peace, there are no great plans of battles to be devised, nor much glory to be gained. A King must only assure the welfare of his people, and that means endless negotiations, solving trading issues, overseeing the economy, listening to the complaints and problems of his subjects, conferring with councilors, sometimes holding formal banquets and dinners … and at all times appear unflappable, polite, patient…"

"Perfect", she concluded for him.

"Indeed. It is often exhausting", he said with a half-smile.

She shook her head. "I would imagine a King – or Queen – must be seen as an example by his people; he must inspire them, he must listen to them, and his enemies should fear him and bend the knee in submission. But also he must seek glory, to conquer new lands and to expand his realm, not to enslave their peoples, but to liberate them from their evils and their tyrants, and elevate them to a new way of life, where peace and justice prevail", she spoke fervently.

A smile rose beneath Thranduil's quirked brow. "You speak less as Queen and more as a conqueror, Daenerys."

She was surprised by his comment. "Do you really think so?"

"In your eyes I see the passion of youth, and in your words I hear the desire to have it all. Your intentions may be benign, but a conquest is always a conquest; it always comes through war and death", Thranduil responded solemnly.

She was not appeased. "Sometimes you need to have war for there to be peace. And I would not stand for a peace where corruption and depravation are the norm. Intrigues, immorality, great Houses vying for the throne… Today rules one, tomorrow another, and on the third day a third one. The wheel keeps turning and turning. I intend to break the wheel, and I will do it with fire and blood." Her voice was fiery, her eyes burning with purpose.

He watched her carefully as she spoke. She was very determined for someone so young and inexperienced. She truly had the heart of a leader, the Elvenking sensed. "And I promised to help you return to your world and fulfil your dream, though a world cruel and perilous it sounds to me."

Her expression softened, and she leaned back in her chair. "It is… But it is my world, it is where I belong. And I intend to take back what was stolen from me. No longer will I be a fugitive and a beggar, laughing stock as my brother Viserys had become. I am the blood of the dragon, and the dragon does not beg; he seizes what he wants."

He observed her as she sat there, hands on the armrests, head held high. Her appearance could deceive, for she looked so soft and pliant, barely a woman grown, but inside her hid a heart of fire and a resolve rarely found even in seasoned warriors. He could not but admire her, this girl who had been through so much hardship and abuse, and yet she was not broken, but emerged stronger through the trials, and rose reborn through the flames, cradling three dragonlings on her breast. She was unique in her way, for lack of a better word. And Thranduil found that his heart had stirred with fondness for her, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to help her and protect her.

She noticed that he was looking at her with the faintest of smiles, and with eyes deep and starlit, and he glowed with a light of his own, his bright aura visible in the dimness of the room. And she felt a strange thing she had never felt before: she felt she was encompassed by something strong and warm, something intangible and yet powerful and eternal, which reached for her very soul and shook the foundations of her existence. A shiver coursed through her, and her limbs tingled with mystical energy she did know existed. Another look in his eyes and she was certain, then, that he was responsible for this strange phenomenon. She felt a myriad of sensations emanating from him, from his ethereal elven spirit, of which he had often and so fondly spoken, and she realized this was a way of communication, a way to know someone was there with you, a way to know that someone sought closeness with you… It was a nameless feeling, and yet one of the most intimate feelings she had ever felt.

Her lips parted slightly and she gasped, and the Elvenking perceived her tumult, her struggle to comprehend what she was feeling, and he felt inclined to pacify her. First he reined in his feverish fëa, and reduced its effect on Daenerys. At once she drew a breath deep and unlabored, and he smiled at her reassuringly.

"What was that?" she uttered.

"Me", he simply said.

"Yes, I knew it was you, I could feel it… But how? I have never felt something like that before."

"It was my spirit… reaching for yours", he explained, his voice low and velvety.

"It was such a powerful sensation", she said breathlessly.

"Our spirits are strong, Daenerys, though humans may not realize it as elves do. While you spoke, my fëa was roused, triggered by yours. And it sought to connect with yours, and it did, but dimly so, for a human is not very much aware of his spirit and its power, while an elf comprehends the presence of his fëa completely. And you come from a different world, so I do not know exactly what kind of a spirit inhabits your body, but there certainly is one, and it is strong and vibrant, and free of malice", he told her. She looked thoughtful, and shrank back in her chair. "Did I scare you? Please, forgive me if I did. It was not my intention", he said.

"You did not scare me… I am just still shaken from what I experienced. My heart thrums with the echo of your spirit's visitation. It is such a foreign feeling to me, and I am still trying to contain it", she explained to him.

Worried that he had indeed damaged her in some unforeseen manner, he rose from his seat and knelt beside her armchair. "Daenerys, have I hurt you?" He tentatively took her hand in his, and found it unusually cold.

His touch caused her heart to skip a beat, but the feeling was not unpleasant. On the contrary, she found it soothing, and her fingers relaxed under his. "I think not", she whispered, and looked into his eyes.

There was that connection again, that unnamed feeling. They kept looking in each other's eyes, and this time neither would look away. Probingly, his fingers moved on hers lightly, as if in a caress. She turned her hand in response, allowing her fingers to slide in-between his and twine with them. His face then betrayed his surprise and emotional upheaval, for his gaze flickered, and his mouth opened slightly. He had not anticipated such reaction, and he was now overwhelmed by it. At the same time his fëa was met with hers, and it was like the dance of wind with fire. He tried to resist and not shower her with his light, for he feared she might be afraid and choose to retract, withdrawing from their connection.

But she showed no sign of fear; instead, a smile graced her face, and he felt heartened by it. She closed her eyes momentarily, and concentrated on her inner self, willing her mind to relax, and searching for her dormant spirit. At that time a bright light washed over her, calling to her spirit to rise. She felt warm and safe, and the sensation reminded her of how she had felt when in the pyre, bathed in the cleansing flames. Thranduil's fëa now soared, entwining with hers, bonding with hers.

When she opened her eyes, mesmerized and out of breath, he saw he had leaned closer, and his head was slightly inclined, his eyes half-lidded. He looked entranced as much as she was, totally given unto their shared experience. When he felt her stir, he slowly lifted his face. "I cannot help it. Our spirits seek each other. I cannot help it", he breathed, almost apologetically.

"I cannot help it either. You have introduced me to sensations I had never imagined possible… And now there is no going back", she uttered.

He held her gaze for a short while, and then leaned closer still, tilting his head lightly to the side. She reached for him, too, and when his lips were met with hers, she felt the light of a thousand stars bathing her. The kiss was barely a kiss, but more of a simple touch of lips upon lips, smooth and sensitive, but for Daenerys this kiss could never compare to any of the kisses she had received before. Such was its emotional and spiritual power.

When Thranduil opened his eyes and pulled back, he found her equally breathless and mystified. He then realized what had transpired, and worry crept up in his heart. As he made to remove his hand from hers, she tightened her fingers upon his. "No", she whispered, asking him not to break the connection. He relented, and stayed as he was, with her hand in his.

Her eyes glowed with serenity, and the sweetest of smiles was upon her lips. Bliss radiated from her being, and he felt her warmth engulfing him. He then lowered his face and dropped a feathery kiss upon her hand, only to rest his cheek on their twined hands next. She smiled fondly at the sight of the King crouching by her side and quietly resting in the feeling of their union. Then she leaned on the armrest of the chair and brought her other hand to stroke his hair, silken strands of molten silver beneath her fingers. He did not resist; he barely even moved, and his breathing became lighter. A single tear streamed down her cheek, and her heart sang with joy _. Here is the Elvenking, knelt beside me, with his head beneath my caress. Is this what love truly feels? Is this what loving an elf feels? Oh, if only it is not a fleeting dream. If only this moment would last forever._

* * *

Translations

Fëa = Spirit, soul (Quenya)

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _So that was chapter 6! I hope you enjoyed it. And many thanks for all those alerts and favorites! The warm reception of the story has made me happy._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Now this is athelas, our most potent healing herb", the chief healer told Daenerys. "It is ever-green, and blossoms even during winter. Marvelous, is it not?" She handed her a small sapling, whose leaves had only sprouted. It was encased in a small pot. "Handle it with care and gentleness, and it shall reward you", she went on.

Daenerys took it her hands and examined it closely. It was bright green of color, stem and small triangular leaves, and its blossom was light blue and star-shaped. She brought it to her nose and inhaled its scent. Her senses were instantly revived, and she felt her head clearing of troublesome thoughts. _If just its aroma has such wondrous properties, who knows what magic its salve or potion can work,_ she reflected with awe.

"Did you feel its effect?" the healer asked with a knowing smile, as if she could read her thoughts.

"I did…"

"Athelas is used to heal the Black Breath. Do you perchance know what it is?" Daenerys shook her head in negation. "It is the touch of evil, inflicted by Sauron and his most fearsome servants, the Nazgûl. Few can survive it, and not without the aid of athelas. We cherish this little plant, and cultivate it with great love and reverence. And to think that men consider it only a weed!" she exclaimed in indignation.

Daenerys smiled and nodded. "Will you show me now how to plant it?"

"Of course, of course. Come along."

The lady led her over to a flowerbed of athelas. Grown plants were in the front lines, neatly arranged, and young saplings took up the middle ones, while the back of the bed looked empty, but Daenerys thought it was reserved for the seeds.

"Now this one is young, and it will join the others here in the fourth line", the healer instructed. She had removed the sapling from another bed of flowers that had been abandoned, because the soil in it would not seem fertile, no matter how much effort the elves put into it. They had come to suspect it was the workings of the Shadow that prevented good things from growing. "Prepare a hole in the ground, in which to plant it", she told her apprentice.

Daenerys placed the sapling carefully on the ground beside her, as she knelt and took up a small trowel in her hand. With it she made a new home for the athelas plant, and then gently removed the soil from the pot and freed it. As she buried it in the hole and covered the roots well, she could already feel it stirring with life. Her look of amazement made the elf smile. "It talks to you, does it not? It wishes to thank you. Now you must care for it, almost like you would care for a child."

Her face grew sorrowful at the mention of that word, for she was reminded of the son she had been robbed of. _If only I held him in my hands, instead of a plant, miraculous though it might be,_ she inwardly wished. _My little Rhaego. My little, unborn, dead Rhaego. Are you riding now in the Night Lands with your proud father? Know that I shall never forget you. A true mother I may never be, but you are the son of my heart, and the dragons are your brothers._

"You should water it now". The healer's voice pulled her out of her doleful musings.

"Yes, my lady Doronith."

She did as she was told, and spent the next few hours in the herbal garden, learning of healing plants and their properties, planting seeds, collecting leaves and even arranging them in jars. They would not let her extract oils or make the leaves and blossoms into salves and liniments, though, for she was still quite ignorant of the ways of healing and treating the plants, but for her frequent visits to the garden. The elves were strict about that, and insisted that only a trained healer handle the plants in such ways. But for her it was enough for now, to walk amongst the aromatic flowerbeds, planting seeds and saplings and collecting leaves and blossoms. Perhaps in time she could learn to refine their juices as the elves did.

Another thing she noticed was that the healers were predominately female, with the male ones being perhaps less than one in ten persons. Daenerys remembered Doronith's reply, when she had asked her why it was so. _You will find more female healers than male ones, because females generally abstain from war and hunting,_ she had told her. _The dealing of death diminishes the power of healing. And it is the norm that the ellyn take up arms when it necessary, and the ellith tend to peaceful tasks. But if an ellon would not partake in hunting or killing, he can be as potent a healer as any female. Likewise, if a female devotes herself to the art of war, she cannot be an effective healer. It is a choice of path; but it is so that more ellyn choose the sword and more ellith the trowel._ But Daenerys recalled that she had heard of male elves, who were great healers, like lord Elrond of Rivendell. _Yes, you are right to put that to question, but Elrond is of the line of Melian the Maia, and he also wields Vilya, the Ring of Air. With all three elven rings come healing powers,_ Doronith had explained.

Daenerys had found the information fascinating, as she always loved to learn more of the lore of this world. _If only such a healer was available, when my sun-and-stars was wounded… Then I would have need of no traitorous maegi. He would have lived, and he would have given me the Seven Kingdoms, as he had promised me…_

But this was only wistful thinking, and she found that the memory of her husband filled her heart with sorrow and longing these days. She missed to be hugged, protected, cared for, loved… She missed the promise of family, of sons and daughters. Would she care to be the Queen of Westeros, had Drogo not died? Daenerys could not tell for sure. Would she be content to be a Khaleesi by his side, and forsake her claim of the Iron Throne?

Her pondering was interrupted by the sweet voice of Luineth. "My lady Daenerys, there you are", she called to her as she approached her gingerly.

"Mae g'ovannen, Luineth. What brings you here?" Daenerys asked, smiling up at her friend.

The blue-eyed elleth produced a small envelop from her cloak. "I was tasked with handing you this. It is from the King."

"The King?" She took the envelop and eyed it curiously. Upon it her name was written with silver letters by Thranduil's own flowing hand.

Luineth nodded. "I might have an idea what it is about, but I would not like to deprive you of the delightful surprise", she told her mischievously. "I will leave you to your work now, for I have to help with the preparations!" she announced as she turned and began walking away.

"The preparations?" Daenerys nearly shouted the question.

"Oh, you shall see!"

* * *

Daenerys had to finish her task in the healing garden as quickly as possible, for she could not wait to return to her room and open the King's envelop. There she was now, tearing it open and taking the card inside in her hands.

 _Dear Daenerys,_ it read. _I would like to personally invite you to Mereth-en-Narwain, our feast to celebrate the rebirth of the Sun, as the days will start to grow longer from that day hence. The feast will take place during the longest night of the Year, which is tomorrow. Festivities have been planned, including dance, song, food and wine and merry-making. The feast will begin at sundown, and it will be held in the feasting hall. I suggest you ask Luineth for directions, in case you do not recall where it is. For I expect your presence there with a certainty, and I have reserved a place at my table for you._ The invitation bore the signature and the seal of the Elvenking himself.

 _Invitation to an elven feast!_ Daenerys thought with excitement. And the King himself deigned to invite her personally. _He means to show me that he cares…_ Memories of their time alone in the library came unbidden in her mind. _Many days have passed since I last saw him, but the memory is vivid. What I felt, what we both felt… it was there, it was real, it was palpable. How can I ignore it? I bet he cannot ignore it either, though I sense he fears to address the matter. He seems rather solitary in his manner of living…_

She paced around her chambers nervously. The feast was tomorrow. What was the last time she had attended a feast? _My own wedding. And I was terrified. The Dothraki mated with their women and killed each other for sport. A Dothraki wedding without enough deaths is a failure to them… The only memorable thing of that day was the gift I received of the three dragon eggs. And Drogo… the way he treated me afterwards. He was careful, gentle even. I had not expected that._ A sad smile rose to her lips at the remembrance of her first night with the Khal. _I was so naïve and ignorant back then. He made a woman of me._

But the time now was not for sadness. _This elven feast will surely be splendid, but perhaps subtle as well. Like the King of the place. I must attend, since he has asked it of me. But to sit at his table… I wonder how things will be between us, after our kiss. Our kiss… Never before have I felt such tantalizing energy overwhelming me. His emotions were so strong, and his spirit opened my mind's eye to indescribable things. How can we go back from that?_

She sat on the edge of her bed, eyes cast low in thought. _But what does it mean for us? Is love what we feel? Or admiration? Or sympathy? Or some strange elven thing I cannot name? Our connection was mostly spiritual, and less physical… And yet when our lips brushed I felt more alive than ever before. Still, I will have to be cautious tomorrow. Best to be formal._

Daenerys then glanced at the wardrobe. Inside it were the beautiful gowns and cloaks Luineth had given her. With a sigh she stood from the bed, and walked to it. _Now, which one should I choose to wear for the feast?_

* * *

All of Thranduil's folk were gathered in the great feasting hall on the day of Mereth-en-Narwain. They had begun swarming in by midday, and when the sun took to its western course, the hall was overcrowded with elves, who sat at the long tables across the hall, and waited for their King to come and the feast to start.

There came Daenerys, alongside Luineth, for she had chosen not to walk into the room on her own. She looked around, and the sight was breathtaking. All the pillars and arches had been decorated with holly – ereg as the plant was called in Sindarin, as well as slender twigs and brownish pinecones. Countless lanterns hung from above, lending a soft orange glow to the deep cavern, and two large hearths were at the northern and southern walls of it, warming the place. There was also a stage and a large dancing floor just a level below the King's table. For the King's table was elevated, so that all of his people may look upon their sovereign at all time, and he upon them. The minstrels and singers had taken their designated places upon the stage, and they held lute and harp and flute, and arranged their music sheets on the tripod stands. The nobles were arriving then, one by one, and the members of Thranduil's council; they all came and sat at his table, where their seats were.

Luineth took Daenerys by the elbow, prompting her not to be shy. "You have a place at our King's table tonight, and that is where you will sit", she told her with determination, as she led her through the crowd towards the high table. Her silver hair, which was adorned tonight with holly, and her small stature turned many curious heads, but she tried to ignore them as best as she could. Some of the councilors tried to hide their frowns, when they saw her taking a seat at the table, but nobody was as unwise as to voice their displeasure. For not few were those who were concerned about the presence of dragons in their home, and the strange woman who had brought them along.

Daenerys sat down and kept her eyes straight ahead, gazing blindly at the crowd. She avoided looking at the nobles close to her, for she already felt uncomfortable enough. The feeling needed no augmentation. The room was noisy with the idle chatter of the elves, and the smell of cinnamon, orange and mint filled the air. There was incense burning in the braziers, Daenerys noticed. Admittedly, the atmosphere in the hall was warm and welcoming and festive enough.

But then all noise died down, as the King entered the hall. Daenerys looked at him. He was resplendent, wearing his wintry crown, which gleamed like silver in the light. His attire was of the deepest blue, a long-sleeved doublet and close-fitting breeches, embroidered with silver thread along the trim and high collar. He wore black, knee-high boots of soft leather, a silver belt was around his slim waist, and a silver-grey cloak was draped upon his shoulders. His hair flowed like silk down his back, long and glistening like moonlight upon snow. He moved to the platform with utmost grace, his presence ethereal and yet commanding. Slowly, he raised both his arms to the sides, and Daenerys watched him with her breath caught in her throat as he spoke.

"My good people, Mereth-en-Narwain has come again, and we are here to celebrate the rebirth of the sun. For each year the sun follows a circle of life, death, and rebirth. Tonight the sun dies, and is born again. This is the longest night of the year, and my thoughts cannot but turn to the night that has fallen on our forest, which has been long indeed. But have courage and hope, for the night does not last forever. Soon it will be broken by the golden rays of dawn, and as the new sun fills our days with light and warmth, so will the good dispel the darkness and prevail upon the evil in the world. Keep close to your heart the memory of our forest, when it was young and green, and old mornings may dawn again. Sung tonight will be songs of old, but veil them not with present tears. For tonight is a night of celebration, of feasting and merry-making. And remember, death is not the end, never the end. It is only a passage, and through it all that lives must walk, so that it may live again." He then turned and grasped a goblet of wine from the table. "And now all of you, raise your cups with me, and drink to the sun reborn!"

Hundreds of elves mirrored their King's gesture, and as soon as the cups were drained and set to refill, music began playing in the hall, and the servants came in with more wine and the first dishes. Thranduil went and resumed his high seat at the middle of the long table, and his eyes fell on Daenerys.

"Daenerys, my lady", he greeted her. "Will you not come and join me here?"

"Hîr vuin Thranduil, I was uncertain of which seat I was to take", she responded in as a steady voice as she could muster, for by now she was dazed by the feast and the King alike.

"Why, but the seat next to mine of course!" he chimed joyfully, and downed a second cup of wine.

He watched her as she stood and approached him. She was dressed in her deep crimson gown, which was low-cut and with dagged sleeves that nearly reached to the floor. White lace sprung from the neckline and hugged her shoulders, and it lined the sleeves and hem as well. The waist was cinched with a golden belt, which was made of shiny golden thread, woven into thick strands and braided neatly together. A matching, fur-trimmed cloak was on her shoulders, and the crimson of her garb matched the small, scarlet fruit of the holly in her hair. Her face was slightly flushed – was it perhaps the wine or the heat? But to Thranduil she looked lovelier than ever.

He pulled back the chair for her, and she lowered herself upon it, thanking him. "How do you like the feast?" he asked her, wishing to start a conversation.

"It is mesmerizing. I have never been to an actual feast before… except for my wedding… which was nothing like this celebration here", she replied, and her voice bore traces of bitterness.

"Such a pity", he murmured, sipping from his wine. Daenerys noticed that he was in his third cup in less than an hour after the feast had begun. _He loves his wine, the King,_ she thought. _I hope he can handle it as well._ Not wishing to seem rude, she took a small sip of wine as well. The taste was rich and slightly spicy, with a fruity aroma of blackberries and pomegranates.

Thranduil observed her from the corner of his eye. "Dorwinion", he informed her. "The best wine there is in all of Middle-Earth. Though some may say they make excellent wine in the Shire, too. I doubt it is as good as this one."

 _The Shire, where the hobbits dwell,_ she remembered reading in a lore-book once. That short-statured, kind and gentle folk had struck an impression on her during her readings, and mostly because they sounded like the least warlike people she had ever heard of. They loved their cozy little homes – who were little more than well-furnished holes in the ground – and their delicious food, and their fishing, and parties, and festivals, and all sorts of peaceful activities. They misliked adventures; all a hobbit wanted was to spend all his life at home, tending to his garden and making merry with his friends. _Perhaps all I had once wanted was to live a life like this… with my family, sheltered and protected, and away from war and danger. But what a foolish dream it was! My life turned out the exact opposite,_ Daenerys mused.

"Daenerys? You seem far off…"

The Elvenking's voice brought her out of her reverie. "I was lost in thought… of what might once have been, if I were not so unfortunate", she told him, withholding a sigh.

He leaned to her side a bit. "Misfortune visits all. Whether little or grand, no one can escape it." His expression was jovial before, but now it had turned grave. _He must be thinking of his own misfortunes,_ Daenerys assumed.

"Yes, my lord. But we should not darken this celebration with such thoughts… It is a feast for the new sun, after all", she commented with a smile.

Thranduil liked her notion. He sat straighter in his chair and looked to the crowd. "You are right. Tonight darkness has no place here", he said, and his words were followed by a generous gulp of wine.

She noticed that. _It is as if he is depending on wine to keep a merry face._ "Hîr nín, if you continue drinking like this, you will be drunk before midnight!" she told him boldly, but her countenance was playful and not severe.

He glanced at her and grinned. "Ah, worry not. It takes more than a few cups of wine for an elf to get drunk. Thank you for your concern, but I am in no such danger", he replied and waved his hand dismissively.

 _I hope he is not exaggerating,_ Daenerys thought, but decided to put the matter to rest. Instead, she turned her attention to her plate. The first course had been served – aromatic mushroom soup and fresh-baked, crispy bread – and it smelled mouth-watering. She saw that the nobles around her had already began sipping their soup eagerly, and she decided to try it, too. It tasted better than she had imagined. "This is wonderful", she murmured.

"Is it not? Faelwen is a Queen in the kitchen", Thranduil said with a smile. "Wait until you try the rest of the dishes."

And truly, Daenerys tasted course after course, and each was more delicious than the other. As the hour grew late, the feast neared its peak. The elves, mostly sated now, took to the dancing floor. They danced in couples, and their moves were graceful and precise; not one of them misstepped or was clumsy. _So unlike humans,_ she observed. The dancing partners swirled about each other in complex motions, but they barely touched. They moved like leaves in the wind and like water in a stream, but never once did they come closer than a touch of the fingertips. The most artful and emotional dance they danced was when the minstrels played the Lay of Lúthien, which told the story Daenerys so well knew and loved. She gazed at the dancers with dreamy eyes and a pout was on her lips.

"I can tell you would wish to dance to this song", the King whispered to her, leaning close to her shoulder. His aura touched her then, and her skin tingled with his energy.

"I would", she admitted, "if I knew how to dance like this. I fear my own movements would be laughing stock compared to the elven ones", she murmured forlornly.

He leaned closer still, whispering now in her ear. "The dragon may dance, too, though a different dance he dances."

She turned to him startled, for his comment had come out of nowhere. She met his eyes, deep and starlit as always, and trained on hers. His face was a breath away from hers, and his fëa enveloped her again, but more slowly this time, giving her time to adjust and accept him.

She did not resist.

Her skin was on fire, and her eyes shone. _He recognizes me for what I am. He does not see me as a mere human, small and unimportant. I am a dragon, and he sees that. How much more does he perceive, but does not let on?_ She looked deeper into his eyes, and saw her own reflection in them. Memories of their evening in the library came to her mind. They had come so very close then, so close that their spirits had entwined and their lips had touched. _He has not forgotten,_ Daenerys thought with a certainty. And the minstrels sang of Beren and Lúthien and their love, and Thranduil gazed at her tenderly, and the world around them melted away and faded.

His hand found hers beneath the table, where the movement passed unseen by the ever-vigilant councilors. "Would you care for a place by the hearth? For I find I am tired of this high seat", he said.

She nodded, and he led her away from the platform. A few of the nobles spared them a glance, but their eyes did not linger; they preferred to return to their food and chatter. The odd pair mingled with the dancing and drinking crowd. Daenerys glimpsed Luineth chatting with a tall, handsome ellon and blushing, and the sight brought a smile upon her face. But she could not tarry; Thranduil gently cupped her elbow, and the elves ebbed aside, allowing passage to their King.

He took her to the northern fireplace. Around it small tables and chairs were arranged, and there were quite a few fluffy pillows on the thick carpet as well. Some revelers sat idly there, already drunk or in the process of it, and laughter and merriment were abundant. For the night had deepened now, and the feast would not be over before sunrise. Thranduil greeted his people as he approached the hearth, and they answered with bows and smiles and words of praise and blessings. Then he went and knelt on the carpet, leaning leisurely upon some large cushions. Daenerys lowered herself beside him, grateful now for the warmth that emanated from the burning logs. The Elvenking removed his crown and stretched his longs legs before him, crossing them at the ankle, and he relaxed visibly, his eyes now half-lidded and his expression mellow. She mimicked his example, and sat comfortably, while her gaze was lost in the dancing flames. It was not so noisy here, and only the song and tunes of the minstrels could be heard in the background, as well as the distant chatter of the crowd, and she found that she liked this spot much better.

A servant then came and served his King and Daenerys wine in two goblets. But Thranduil motioned for him to leave the flagon, and then dismissed him. They drank in silence for a while, and then he turned and refilled her glass. He was an elf, possibly impervious to intoxication, but she was not, and her head had started feeling light, and her thoughts became a little hazy and incoherent. "Oh, I think I have had too much wine", she murmured, as the crimson liquid swirled in her cup.

The Elvenking smiled. "I can tell."

"Really?"

"Your cheeks are rosy, your lips slightly parted, and your eyes glisten and dance", he replied breathily.

She looked at him with mock indignation. "You have been watching me, my lord?"

"I have. And you look beautiful."

His smile slowly faded then, and its place upon his face took some deep longing, and unnamed sorrow. _What my heart desires… cannot be,_ he thought. But her lips were glossy and enticing, and he had kissed them not so many days ago. How could he forget that kiss? His spirit reached out to hers, and found no resistance. She wanted him, she yearned for him; that much he knew, but he also knew that she was afraid and reluctant to admit it. And was he not as well? These feelings that stirred in his heart he had thought long dead, and he dared not name them for what they were.

"Not as beautiful as the ellith", she timidly responded, sipping from her wine to hide her uneasiness.

"Far more beautiful than any elleth in my kingdom."

She laughed nervously. "Now that is far-fetched."

"Is it?" He smiled tenderly at her, and his fingertips touched her sleeve. "Tinúviel was dancing there, to music of a pipe unseen, and light of stars was in her hair, and in her raiment glimmering…" he sang to her lyrics of her favorite song, and she stood breathless, for she had not known him to sing, and sing with a voice so deep and melodious at that.

"You sing…"

"Sometimes. Rarely actually", he admitted, casting his eyes low. "I used to sing a lot more in the past. There was a time in my first youth when my mother wished that I became a minstrel. I disappointed her and became a warrior instead", he narrated with a bittersweet smile.

Her hand went to his, where it had neared hers, and her warm fingers caressed his cool ones. Her unexpected move caused his eyes to dart up to hers, as a shiver ran down his spine. "Will you sing some more for me?" she asked of him in a velvety tone.

He smiled and nodded. "There Beren came from mountains cold, and lost he wandered under leaves, and where the elven river rolled, he walked alone and sorrowing… Through woven woods in Elvenhome, she lightly fled on dancing feet, and left him lonely still to roam, in the silent forest listening…"

Daenerys lightly squeezed his hand. "Do you feel lonely, Thranduil?" she asked him with the greatest care, foregoing his title on purpose. She wanted to feel close to him, she wished him to open his heart to her. Gone were her qualms now. Was it the wine, perhaps, or her starving heart?

It was his turn to feel taken aback now. She was asking for intimacy; that was crystal clear. Could he give it? Should he give it? He inhaled deeply. "Sometimes. More often than not", he murmured. His gaze was sorrowful now, and the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown.

She felt for him, and the light in her eyes flickered. "So do I. I have been feeling alone all my life. Need it always be so?"

He gave her a half-smile. "I cannot speak for eternity… But at least for now we can banish our loneliness", he answered, his thumb tracing her palm.

"I do not feel lonely now, my lord. Never in your presence do I feel lonely. But will you sing some more for me? You left poor Beren in his solitude and sorrow, where you stopped the song", she teased him lightly.

Soft laughter escaped his lips. She loved the sound of it. "He sought her ever, wandering far, where leaves of years were thickly strewn, by light of moon and ray of star, in frosty heavens shivering. Her mantle glinted in the moon, as on a hill-top high and far, she danced, and at her feet was strewn, a mist of silver quivering… As Beren looked into her eyes, within the shadows of her hair, the trembling starlight of the skies, he saw there mirrored shimmering. Tinúviel the elven-fair, immortal maiden elven-wise, about him cast her shadowy hair, and arms like silver glimmering…"

As he finished his song, Daenerys had nigh leaned her head on his shoulder. "I think I could listen to your singing for hours", she murmured sleepily.

Thranduil felt her against his arm, warmth radiating from her body, which was fire itself. And it was a welcome feeling. He allowed her to stay there, and his heart was peaceful and calm. "And I would sing to you", he told her. But as he turned to look at her, he saw that her eyes were closed, and her breath had deepened. A smile rose upon his face as he beheld her sleeping form. Carefully he drew his cloak and draped it over her, and then reclined on his large pillow. His gaze went to the flickering flames in the fireplace, as a servant came to add some more logs and stir the fire anew. A few hours yet remained until dawn, and the feast had started to wane. Some elves had taken to the floor upon cushions and carpets, like himself, while others still sang and conversed in low voices. The air now was thick with the scent of cinnamon and made the Elvenking feel drowsy as well. But he had no wish to relocate to his rooms. With Daenerys perched beside him, all he wished was to remain as he was, stealing what more he could of the feelings of this night. And when at last sleep claimed him and he drifted into the world of dreams, he dreamt of Beren and Lúthien; only Beren had his own face, and Lúthien the face of Daenerys.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Viserion! Calm down. Soon I will release you, and you will take your first taste of flight."

The cream dragon kept pulling hard on the chain, though, and Daenerys was forced to unhinge the clasp and let him go. Once free, he cried happily, and flapped his strong wings, taking to flight. His mother had wished to walk further in the forest before releasing him, so as not to scare any elf that might be outside the Halls, but the dragon's persistence left her with little choice.

She watched Viserion shrink in the distance with a sigh. _They have grown so much, and so fast,_ she thought with a longing. No more were they babies to ride on her shoulders. They were growing into majestic beasts, each with their own character, quirks and habits. Viserion was the second dragon she took out after Drogon; initially she had thought to take Rhaegal before him, as he was larger than the pale dragon, but Viserion's restlessness prompted her to change her mind. _Your brother will wait for his turn,_ she thought as she watched the cream dragon fly in circles far above the tree-tops.

Left alone now, she began a slow sauntering in the woods, careful not to stray from the elven path and lose her way. It had snowed a bit those past few days, and she had to pay attention to where she stepped, for the path was almost hidden under the snow at some parts, although the scouting parties of the elves had cleared most of it. The nature around her was solemn and quiet, slumbering under the blanket of winter. If she looked in the distance amidst the trees, it seemed to her that at times shadows crept here and there, giving a brooding feeling to the forest. Daenerys remembered what Thranduil had told her about the evil creatures that infested these woods, but she had seen none so far, and she dismissed those shadows as tricks of her eyes, and the play of the thin sunrays with the branches. Still, her fingers traced the hilt of the dagger on her belt. She was not a warrior, and neither was she trained in sword-fighting, but the small elven dagger gave her a sense of security. She only wished her skill would not be put to the test, though.

This dagger was the only weapon she had been allowed by the King. Small enough not to cause any real harm, especially in the hands of one who knew little of how to use it, but still it was a weapon for her to defend herself with, if needs be. Deldhin the King had named it, Silent Horror, and perhaps it was too strong a name for this small dagger, but Daenerys liked the sound of it nonetheless. Its blade was made of steel, sharp and a little curved. Its blunt side was perforated and decorated after the elven fashion. Its hilt was a direct continuation of the blade, the whole dagger made out of a single piece of metal, thus giving the small weapon lightness and stability in the hand of its wielder. It was not adorned with gems or silver, but Daenerys cherished it, for she considered it Thranduil's gift to her. He had given it to her a few days ago, and the scene was still vivid in her memory:

" _Daenerys", he called her name._

 _She turned in the hallway, just outside the doors of her chambers, only to be met with the King. He approached her unhurriedly, always maintaining his regal posture, his long damask cloak swooshing behind him._

" _My lord."_

 _He came and stood opposite her, and after a short moment a tiny smile crept upon his lips. "This is for you", he said as he produced a small parcel from his robes._

 _He handed it to her, and she took it with unspoken question in her eyes. Thranduil watched her as she carefully unwrapped it. It was a steel dagger, sheathed in a leather holder._

 _A look of surprise appeared on her face. "But I am no warrior", she uttered._

" _You are a warrior, Daenerys. Not one with a sword or bow… but still…" he smiled. "It is for your own protection, for many are the evils that lurk in the shadows. May you never need to use it."_

" _Thank you, h_ _î_ _r nín. It is a most generous gift", she told him with light in her violet eyes._

" _Take it as a token of our… friendship", he said._

 _Her gaze danced from his eyes to the dagger and back. Friendship he called it, and yet some time ago they had shared an intimate moment, and their lips had touched. She would not call that friendship, even though he might choose to name it so._

" _Friendship?" she challenged him boldly and took a step closer to him._

 _He inhaled deeply, trying to rein in his wild spirit, and keep it from engulfing Daenerys all at once. She sensed his restraint, though, for her skin tingled with his energy, and it was that feeling she had felt before, only measured and contained now. He had erected barriers around him, and she felt compelled to bring them down._

" _Was it friendship we shared that evening?" she whispered to him._

 _He looked deeply into her eyes, feeling lost in them. "Do not ask of me to name it elsehow", he told her in a tone low and smooth._

" _Why?"_

 _His gaze flickered in uncertainty, betraying his inner battle. "Elves love only once", he uttered._

 _But still his eyes were locked with hers, and his lips craved the feel of hers, defying his declaration. How can it be, he wondered, that I, an elf so ancient, who has shared a love so deep and true, may harbor such feelings for another?_

 _Daenerys sensed his dilemma, and she could see he was in denial of his own reality. She did not want to press things, though, for she was not entirely certain of her own heart either. She chose to bestow upon them both the benefit of the doubt, and took a step back, while a small, sad smile curled her lips._

" _I shall keep it as a token of your friendship, then, Aran nín", she told him with respect, and bowed her head before him._

 _His heart swelled with pride and longing for the woman in front of him, for she had wisely chosen to act with dignity. He smiled at her and nodded to show his approval, and tied his hands behind his back. She felt his aura retract then, and inwardly sighed. She already missed his encompassing presence, although he was still there with her._

" _I wish you good night, Daenerys. Losto vae."_

" _Ollo vae, Thranduil", she responded, choosing to call him by his name only, forgoing all titles._

 _He understood why she did that, why she sought that informality, for it signified intimacy of another kind. She would let him have it his way, but she would remind him of the truth that lurked underneath the surface. He stood and watched her keenly, and she smiled fondly at him, before turning and disappearing behind the oaken doors of her rooms._

Such an intimate moment it had been, and Daenerys now wondered where those newfound feelings would lead them. Thranduil, although not dwelling in regret over the kiss they had shared, did not seem to embrace his feelings for her either. Laden by the notion that elves love only once, he dared not call what he felt for Daenerys love. And she made every effort to understand him, and not expect him to act as she would have expected a man to act, for he was an elf, a race unknown to her until recently. Their traditions were different, their laws were different, their souls were different. And if he was in turmoil, that was his own battle to fight. The trouble of his heart saddened her, but she knew she could do little to help him but wait for him to come to terms with his emotions.

And she did not wish to get too attached to him either. Her true purpose was to find a way out of this land and return to her own, not to marry the King here. And, even though she would not object to a romance with him, she did not wish her feelings to take deep root. She had in mind to keep her heart under control, and use Thranduil's feelings for her own advantage. She did not mean that in an evil manner, though, for she would never wish to hurt him. But if his love for her meant he would be more willing to help her, then it was a love all the more welcome.

Meanwhile, she continued her search for information about a possible exit in the lore-books daily. But, till now, it was to no avail. She had not lost her hopes, however. _If there is a way in, there must be a way out,_ she kept telling herself. And if Thranduil's tomes and scrolls proved useless, then surely there were other libraries and other wise people in this Middle-Earth she could turn to for help. She was determined not to be disheartened by this initial failure. Certainly such information would be rare and well-guarded, otherwise everyone would know of it, and more outlanders would be known to have come to this world. Still, no such records did she come across in her search.

And her dragons kept growing. Relocated now to a spacious room in the depths of the Halls and unchained, she visited them every day. She had decided on a schedule of taking them out in the forest with her one by one every few days, to give them freedom to fly and hunt. Thranduil had been worried, though, that the flight of the dragons would sooner than later attract the eye of the Enemy upon his kingdom, and he discouraged her from taking them out too frequently. Daenerys understood his concern, but she did not know how it would be possible to hide three dragons from the Dark Lord, especially once they were grown into adolescent ones. He would know of their presence here eventually. But to her Sauron was only an idea, a shadow and a distant thought. What harm could he visit upon three mighty dragons?

A loud shriek from the sky disrupted her musings, and Viserion flew down and landed beside her. His jaws were reddened and bloody. "What have you feasted upon, my hungry child?" she asked him sweetly. He answered her with a jerk of his neck and a blink of his golden eyes. She approached him, and after petting him for a little while, she fastened the chain on his foot. He neither resisted nor complained, sated now and pleased with his flight over the trees. "We will go back now. It is around midday, and you are not the only one who has gotten hungry", she told him. "Faelwen promised me this morning that she would prepare her wonderful berry pie for dinner. I wonder what else she has made."

Before long Daenerys and her dragon were inside Thranduil's Halls. Her first care was to return Viserion to his brothers, and then she made for the kitchens. There, Faelwen the chief baker informed her that the King had kindly requested that she dine with him. Daenerys thanked her and hastily made for the upper levels, where her chambers were located. She definitely needed a bath to make herself presentable before she met the Elvenking.

But as she was on her way there, voices coming out of the council chamber attracted her attention. She glanced towards the door, and noticed that it was left ajar. Unintentionally, for sure. She gave no second thought to it and made to move on, as whatever was being said there was none of her business. But someone pronouncing her name caused her to stop in her step.

"Yes, my lord, I understand you have chosen to trust this woman, Daenerys, but are you certain without a doubt that those beasts of hers are not evil?" a male voice spoke.

"I told you, Golhador, I have met the dragons myself. They are no more evil than any wild beast", Thranduil replied.

"It seems strange, for such an opinion to come from you, my lord… Especially after all you suffered in dragonfire", another councilor said pointedly.

"What are you implying, Orodlin? That I have forgotten I have since long been scarred and disfigured? No, I tell you, I have forgotten nothing. But if I had the heart to approach the dragons, how can you doubt my words when I say they are not evil?" he countered, and to Daenerys he seemed wounded and enraged in equal measure by the questions of his councilors.

 _Scars and disfigurement? What do they mean? Thranduil looks perfectly fine to me, and beautiful beyond words,_ Daenerys thought. Intrigued further, she hid behind a pillar beside the door and kept listening, even though it was eavesdropping and she disliked it.

"Hîr vuin", a mellow female voice said, "we do not doubt you. We simply cannot trust this foreign woman, who claims to hail from another land. What land is that? There is no mention of other worlds in any lore book I know of. The Dark Lord has sought to trick and deceive us before. This might very well be yet another of his beguiling devices."

"I have thought of that possibility as well. But I sense nothing evil or suspicious about her. All this time, she has given me no reason to doubt her. And she insists on finding a way back to her own world", the Elvenking replied.

"Sauron disguised as Annatar managed to deceive even Celebrimbor, once", Orodlin pointed out.

"But the Dark Lord is incapable of taking fair form any longer. We must not forget that. Daenerys is not Sauron in disguise, nor is she one of his servants", Thranduil stated.

"Suppose all is as you say, my King. How long before the Dark Lord discovers the dragons and seeks to claim them? Nothing will save us then from their scorching breath. Our forest will turn to ashes and we with it, a doom even worse than the doom of Erebor, when Smaug came. And they are dragons, my lord", the one called Golhador went on, stressing the words one by one. "They will answer to the call of evil. It is in their blood."

"Those dragons are not born of this world. Their allegiance lies only with Daenerys. I have seen that", Thranduil insisted, but his voice betrayed that he had started feeling irritated and tired. "And do not think I have not considered the possible interest of Sauron in them either. That is why I have made an agreement with her. She will commit the dragons to our cause and remain loyal to us, in exchange for our aid with finding a way back to her land. With weapons such as these, we will force the Shadow to abandon all plans of conquering the northern kingdoms. For not even the Nazgûl will be able to face the dragons, once they are grown."

"Yes, my lord. Once they are grown. But there is no telling what terrible fate might befall us until then", the elleth spoke. "And we have received word from Erebor earlier this week, that the guards at the outposts saw a strange black shadow flying over our woods some days ago. They were inquiring as to what it might have been, and whether we had noticed that shadow as well. Clearly they were referring to the dragon. How long before they realize it was indeed a dragon, and they turn against us in fury? There is little love between our races anyway. The dragons will only make the situation worse."

"What is this dwarven letter that I have not heard of? Are you keeping secrets from me?" Thranduil raised his voice.

"Of course not, my lord. The letter was addressed to the Captain of the Guard, and only yesterday did he see fit to seek our counsel, for he was unsure as to how to respond to it. And no response has been given to the dwarves as of yet", she replied.

The King grunted and huffed. "I see. Tell the dwarves what you will, but make no mention of the dragons. Enough problems we have as it is; we need no new ones."

"Indeed", Golhador agreed. "But the issue remains. Daenerys and her dragons are the problem, and we will not be able to keep their existence a secret for long."

Silence fell in the chamber for a little while, until the King took the floor again. "You seem adamant in your opposition, all of you. What do you propose, then?"

Orodlin cleared his throat. "Send her away, my King. Far beyond the mountains in the north, to the frozen wastes of Forochel… Too far for the reach of Sauron's arm, if she is not a guise of Sauron indeed. Let her go there in exile and search for a way back to the world she says on her own."

Thranduil was aghast. "And the dragons?"

"Put an end to them, while they are still small", Orodlin replied without hesitation.

"Such beasts can only cause trouble, my lord", Golhador added. "Already the people address us with complaints about the dragons dwelling in our home. They fear them, and rightfully so. And what if one day that woman decides she wants your kingdom for her own? All it will take is one word, and all will be turned to ruin."

 _Dracarys. That is the word it will take,_ Daenerys thought with anger. _But it is not your kingdom I want. I have asked for nothing but your help to leave this place, but all these vile suspicions have risen instead. Perhaps not all elves are wise and good-natured, as I thought. Perhaps this world does not differ that much from mine, after all._

"Daenerys is innocent. I know it. I have seen it. I have felt it. I cannot send her away, nor kill her dragons. If only you trusted me; if only you saw things as I do", the King said bitterly, but in truth he knew that there was no way he could change the minds of his councilors.

"Some say there is another reason why you cling to her, my King…" the female one spoke.

"What do you imply, Mídhiel? Speak clearly!" Thranduil bellowed.

Daenerys felt her heart beat like a drum in her chest, as she waited to hear the ominous words.

"Well…" the councilor began reluctantly. "Some say you seek solace and companionship with her."

"This is outrageous! How dare you insult me thus!" he yelled, although deep inside he knew Mídhiel's words bore a great deal of truth. "My heart lies with Gilwen, and always shall. Daenerys is a… a human child. But she has dragons. Need I repeat what I said before? She will help us win the war against Sauron. That is all", he stated. "And whoever dares voice such lowly claims, they better have the courage to say it to my face and know my wrath!"

The councilors had more things to say, but Daenerys could not stay any longer. She did not wish to listen to not even one more word. Hurriedly she made for her chambers, with her heart and mind in upheaval. Should she go, as they wanted? Should she stay, as Thranduil wanted? And what did she want, actually?

Suddenly all her appetite was lost. She had no intention of dining with the King now. And to blazes with Faelwen's wonderful berry pie.

* * *

The hours passed quickly. The dinner that had been served in Thranduil's chambers had by now turned cold on the platters. The sun reached its apex and then took to the west, but Daenerys never showed up for dinner. The King sat there alone and gazed out of the large window miserably. For some reason, she had decided to turn down his invitation. He felt offended by her behavior as a King, and hurt as an ellon. Could it be because she wished more of him that he could not give her? During their last exchange, when he gifted her the dagger, she touched upon the issue of their relationship. He had chosen to call it friendship, and clearly she was disappointed by that. Thranduil was no fool; he could see that Daenerys had begun nurturing feelings for him, and he was at fault for that to a great extent. He should have been more careful, more restrained. He should not have allowed his fëa to reach for hers so desperately. He should not have let his feelings be known so openly. He should not have kissed her. No, he could not blame Daenerys for the feelings she had. He should only blame himself.

The wind outside caused the heavy rain to batter mercilessly against the trees. The sky was grey, and thunder rolled in the distance. The King watched the winter storm under a furrowed brow. And then suddenly he jumped to his feet and threw his cloak around his shoulders, as he hurriedly marched out of his rooms. _If she will not come to me, I will go to her._

She was not in her chambers. It was dark and cold when he entered, and the embers were dying in her hearth. Frustrated, he turned on his heel. _Where might she be? I hope no ill has befallen her… But surely I would have heard of it, were that the case._ And then it struck him. _The dragons! That is where she must be. It makes perfect sense._ And he hurried towards the dungeons.

When he pushed the heavy doors open, he saw Daenerys crouched on the floor with Rhaegal's head in her lap, while Drogon was finishing off his meal nearby and Viserion was sleeping in the corner. It was quiet, the air chill and the light dim, as only a few braziers were lit. Thranduil took a step forth and called her name. She sighed, turning her head only slightly. She knew he would come looking for her eventually. In silence he approached and knelt beside her. Rhaegal lifted his head and sniffed at the intruder, but when he recognized the King, he was pacified and returned to his mother's caresses.

"I knew you would find me", she muttered.

"Were you hiding?"

She smiled. "No. I needed to be with my children."

"But I had hoped we might share dinner. You did not deem it proper to grace me with your answer, though. I sat in waiting for hours", he complained, and his voice came out weaker than he had wished it to.

Daenerys turned her eyes to him. They glimmered like amethyst jewels in the dark. "It was not my intention to offend you, my lord. But I found that I had no appetite for fancy dinners", she told him with bitterness in her tone.

"Why? What happened?" he asked with concern. He was not angry with her, she could see; only sad.

She took a shaky breath. "I learned some upsetting things today. Thranduil, my King, tell me truly: am I unwanted here, my dragons and I? Am I considered to be a servant of evil and they despised as abominations of evil?"

He stood speechless for a while, not having anticipated her to speak thus. "Where have you gotten these notions?"

"Just tell me if they are true", she insisted.

His brow furrowed and he dropped his gaze to the stone floor before him. "They are. Some of my people are uncomfortable to have the dragons live here. And not all of them believe you come from another world as you say. They think you are a servant of evil in disguise."

"And you think otherwise?" she challenged him, although she knew the answer already.

He turned to her and his eyes bore hard into hers. "You know what I think." She held his gaze for a while and then turned to pet Rhaegal once more. "But the minds of my people are their own."

"I am sorry I have caused you such distress. If your people do not want me here, I shall leave", she said. The green dragon blinked, as if he sensed his mother's sorrow.

"Leave? And go where?"

"Anywhere away from here." She looked at him with tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, but she fought them back.

Her look broke his heart. "I cannot let you do that. You do not know this world, and it is full of peril and darkness. How will you ever survive?"

She sighed. "I will find a way." _That is my fate,_ she thought. _Ever to be a nomad, homeless and seeking a place in the world, with nothing to me but my name… and my dragons. Yes, at least I have my dragons. Them they will never take away from me._

"But we had an agreement. I offered you my protection and my help to find a way back to your world. Will you break it now?" he asked her.

"It is not my wish to break it. But things have changed. If I stay, the dragons will keep growing, and your people will fear them even more. Perhaps at some point one of them will behave unpredictably – who can know? They are creatures of free will. I can communicate with them, but I cannot dominate their minds. And then it will be disastrous for all. I can risk no one's safety, nor the stability of your kingdom and your credibility as King, especially in the face of the war you tell me is coming. If I stay, my lord, things will only get worse, and the displeasure will increase", she explained gravely. She hated having to speak these words, for she liked her life in Thranduil's Halls, and she liked Thranduil even more. But how could she ever bring ruin to him and his people, who have housed her and treated her kindly all these months?

He fell silent. He knew what she said was true, and as King he had to consider the welfare of his people above all. He had to steel his heart and abide by the will of his councilors, who also expressed the will of the majority of his subjects. Rhaegal moved then, and went to join Viserion in his sleep. Thranduil looked at the green dragon with sadness. If only his people could see things as he did.

Daenerys watched how the shadows played on his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his profile and his heavy brows, making him look grimmer still. But in his eyes she could see all the sadness of the world, and she could feel his aura cold and dim and detached.

"Thranduil…" she whispered.

He turned his face to her. "You call me by my name."

She smiled bitterly, and an unruly tear ran down her cheek. "Of course", she responded in a broken voice, and dared touch his shoulder.

He sighed, striving with all his might to keep his composure. "I do not want you to go."

"I know. I do not either. But I must. You know I must."

He lifted a trembling hand to her temple, tracing her hairline there, and let it slide along the gentle curve of her ear. His eyes fell momentarily to her lips, but he resisted. _I must not make this mistake again. I must not make things more difficult for her_ , he told himself, and fought hard against his urge to ravish her then and there, he fought hard to ignore the discomfort of his awakened manhood in the confines of his breeches that reminded him he was still alive, and not dead as he had thought himself to be all these centuries after his wife's passing.

His caress caused Daenerys to shiver, and her eyelids fluttered. _Please, do not kiss me,_ she inwardly wished. _Do not make our parting more painful. Please._ But her beating heart and her heated body cried against her mind, craving the ellon in front of her, screaming for his touch, for his kiss, for the nakedness of his skin she had wildly dreamed of in her sleepless nights. _Please, do not kiss me._

Finally, after what seemed an endless moment, his hand dropped, and he averted his eyes, his lips drawn in a thin line. "Give me some time to think about it. I cannot just have you go into the wild, alone and unprotected. My heart will never rest, for each passing moment I will live in regret of my choice. There must be another way, a less cruel way."

Instinctively, she took his hand. He quivered at her touch, but did not pull away. "I trust you. And I will do as you decide", she told him.

Their eyes locked then. He nodded, and felt her fingers still lingering upon his. But then he let go of her hand and rose to his feet, marching out of the room before the inevitable happened.

* * *

Translations

Aran nín = My King (Sindarin)

Losto vae = Sleep well (Sindarin)

Ollo vae = Sweet dreams, lit. dream well (Sindarin)

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Hello my dear readers! Do forgive my two-week absence... life got in the way. But at last I found the time to post a new chapter. Please tell me what you think!_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When Daenerys found Thranduil, he was in the library, seated behind a large round table, and was looking intently at a map unfolded before him.

"My lord?" she called from a distance, and his eyes at once shot up.

"Daenerys…"

She came closer and glanced at the yellowed parchment. The map depicted most of Middle-Earth, and she had seen such maps before, during the long hours she had spent in the library, studying the lore and legends of this world.

The Elvenking sat back in his chair and sighed in resignation. "No matter how long I look at it, I can find no place I would have you go to", he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But how much longer can you postpone it? A fortnight has passed since we last spoke… and you have not given me your decision yet. Already I have been gathering looks of discomfort and suspicion by some of your people. Should I just leave, then, and cause you trouble no more?" she asked him, her fingers fidgeting with the torn edge of the map.

"No."

His reply came curt and absolute, and his steely gaze matched the tone of his voice. But Daenerys was unfazed, and met his look with a stern one of her own. "Find a place then."

The Elvenking looked back at the map and grunted in frustration. "I would not have you go far away, as my councilors wish. They even suggested Forochel", he said gesturing to the place on the map. "Forochel! Where there is nothing but ice and Arvedui's shipwreck! Can you believe it?" he exclaimed.

She stood thoughtful. That place reminded her of the stories of the Land of Always Winter, far beyond the Wall. She shivered. "I would not want to go there", she murmured.

Thranduil shook his head. "And go there you will not. You will leave my Halls, since I cannot oppose the will of my people forever, but I will not have you be too far from my reach either. I will not visit upon you a fate worse than what has already befallen you, to be stranded in a world that is not your own, alone amongst strangers, and with three dragonlings to account for."

"Were it not for my dragons, the problem of my presence here would be much lesser", she mused.

Thranduil sighed. "Indeed."

She looked sharply into his eyes. "Are they in danger?"

His brow furrowed. "No one would dare harm them. I have forbidden anyone to come close to them… And no one would wish to. The wood-elves are frightened of them. You know already that my people harbor a great enmity for drakes and their kind."

She leaned a little closer. "But you have seen beyond that enmity. You have seen that my children are not evil, although you lost so much in dragonfire. Why cannot the rest see it as well?"

He locked eyes with her. "There is a difference, Daenerys, and it is that I have chosen to trust you. All this time that you are here, I have gotten to know you, and I know your heart is innocent. But the rest do not know you as I do. They mistrust you, and even see ulterior motives in my keeping you here…" he said, his voice trailing off in the end.

"What ulterior motives? I promised to help you in your war, but that is no secret, and it shall benefit all your people. How is that an ulterior motive?" she protested.

Thranduil dropped his gaze and sighed once more. "Some say I keep you here for myself", he whispered.

Her voice was caught in her throat. It was one thing to hear that being said by some councilor behind a closed door, and another thing to hear it from Thranduil himself. "That would be… absurd", she uttered.

"It would be. But so many years have passed since my wife died, and some may think I yearn for the company of another…" he responded, his voice strained and low.

Daenerys swallowed hard. _How much longer are we to keep up pretenses?_ "But is it not so, that elves love only once?" she daringly asked him, flinging back to him his own words.

His eyes darted up, liquid ice bearing hard into her fiery pools of indigo. They stayed so, assessing each other, until he yielded, and said with a fist clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white, "Yes, it is so."

She noticed his agitation, and her gaze softened. "There is no road on which we both might walk together. You are elf-kind, and a King. I am mortal, and of another world, to which I must return. Your people worry needlessly. Tell me where I should go, but please do not abandon me completely, for without your aid I will never find my way back."

Her voice was smooth and pleading, and sorrow was born in the heart of the Elvenking. _There is no road on which we both might walk together._ The truth of her words cut him deeply, but he acknowledged it nevertheless. With a frown he glanced back at the map. His eyes fell on the mountains south of his Halls. "Emyn-nu-Fuin…" he murmured. "Once we called them Emyn Duir, when the world was greener. Silvan elves lived there in ages past… but now foul creatures haunt them. Could I perhaps have you dwell there, or is it too dangerous?" he asked himself pensively.

Daenerys looked at the small mountain range on the map. She had read about those mountains in the books. They were not so tall, mostly green, fir-covered rolling hills to the west, rising to greater heights in the east. And they were just south of the Elvenking's Halls, perhaps a day's ride or so. "You said Silvan elves dwelled there once. Surely there must be some ruins of their homes there?" she asked with hope.

The King looked at her. "There are, but they are mostly infested by spiders, for all we know. The hills to the west are less unforgiving, though, and there was the majority of the elven homes. Maybe we could have you relocate there…"

"I would prefer it over frozen Forochel", she said with a small smile.

He sighed with sadness, for he truly did not want her to go anywhere. "I will have scouting parties report to me of how things are there. Once a proper abode is found and prepared, you shall go to live there with your dragons, far from my people's eyes, but not too far, so that I may still visit you and know that you are safe and hale."

"Thank you. And do not worry about my safety, my lord. My children will see to it. They are grown to the size of a deer now, and I doubt any spider would dare provoke their flames", she told him with a small smile.

He managed a smile as well. "All your needs will be seen to. You shall have warmth, food and clothing, and fresh water. And our agreement still stands; I will search for a way to get you back to your world, and you shall come to our aid, if needs be."

Daenerys nodded and stood. "Thank you. So be it, then. I will await your word, for when I am to leave."

She then bowed and turned to leave, but he called her name. "Daenerys." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "I shall miss our lessons. My Valyrian is still too basic…"

She smiled and turned to face him. "It was just a pastime, my lord. You shall never need to use it."

He stood before her, peering down into her eyes. "I never imagined there would come a day I said that, but I had hoped I could see more of your dragons. You have opened my mind to things I considered impossible, Daenerys", he told her in a low, velvety voice.

A shiver coursed down her spine, for even the sound of his voice was thrilling to her. But she suppressed her feelings; now was not the time for weakness. And she sensed that Thranduil was holding back too. She opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment the doors burst open and Galion, the King's butler, came through panting.

"My lord Thranduil! I have been looking for you everywhere!" he rasped.

The Elvenking's brow furrowed, and he moved towards the servant. "What is going on, Galion? Catch your breath and tell me!"

The elf steadied himself and said, "My King, Prince Legolas is here!"

Thranduil's lips parted in astonishment. "Legolas… my son… I thought he might never return…" he whispered. But then he regained his composure. "Where is he now, Galion? For I must see him at once!"

"He is waiting in the throne room, my lord."

"Thank you. Inform my son that I shall be there presently."

"Yes, my King."

Galion bowed and left. Thranduil turned to Daenerys, and his countenance was grave. "This is most unexpected news. I must go and see my son immediately. Go to your room, Daenerys. Do not make your presence known to him, at least for now."

Not waiting for a reply, the Elvenking grasped his oaken staff from where it rested against the wall and marched out of the library. Daenerys hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting his will and satisfying her own curiosity, until the latter won, and she followed after him in quiet.

The throne room was less of a room and more of a vast cavern in the Halls, in the center of which rose a grand plateau upon which was Thranduil's throne, and all around were numerous pathways, stairs and bridges. The throne itself was majestic, carved in the living wood, and fashioned in the likeness of elk antlers, which rose from the sides of the seat and expanded above, creating an elegant and at the same time ominous look. There upon that plateau stood an elf tall and fair, with long blond hair, adorned with fine braids which met at the crown of his head. He was dressed in hues of brown, and a dark green cloak was upon his shoulders. He held a large bow, and two daggers were fastened on his belt. Thranduil walked to the platform, and Daenerys hid on a lower level behind the throne and watched the scene unfold before her.

"Legolas", the King called to his son in a regal tone, and the younger ellon turned.

"Le suilon, adar", he spoke, and his voice was lighter and less sharp than his father's, but warmer and friendlier.

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn, ionneg", Thranduil spoke, his voice now rich with sentiments of love and longing for his only child. "Mae tollen na mar."

"And I am glad to be back, for many were the years I was away. My heart sings with joy to see you well, father", said Legolas and placed his palm at the place of his heart.

The King walked up to his son and rested his hands upon his shoulders, squeezing him gently. "You will never know how much I missed you."

Legolas nodded. "And yet I had to leave… I had to find my own path."

"Did you?"

"I traveled a lot, and saw the world beyond our borders. I met with men and dwarves, and saw their cities and their works. I met the Dúnedain, and Aragorn, the heir of Isildur. The fates of the world are stirring, ada. Soon we will bear witness to grand events."

"Of that I am certain. Tidings of the workings of the world beyond our borders reach me frequently. But I will not needlessly engage in acts of war, lest our realm is directly threatened", the King responded.

The Prince sighed, realizing that his father's views had indeed changed very little over the years that had passed. "It is said that Sauron searches for the Master Ring. How long before he finds it?"

"We can only hope he does not. But this is a talk for another hour. Come now, my child, you must be tired from your journey. Rest, eat, and then we shall speak again", the King said.

At that the two ellyn left the throne room. Daenerys soon abandoned her hiding place and made for her own chambers as well. Legolas had made a fine impression on her. He seemed to be an intelligent elf, who cared for the fates of the world and wished to take active part in them – unlike his father, who was unwilling to engage with the world outside his borders unless completely necessary. But then again, Daenerys could perhaps understand why Thranduil was like that: he had seen and suffered much in his younger years, and wished for no more pain and death.

Upon returning to her rooms, her thoughts traveled back to her discussion with the King. Her departure seemed imminent now. She should begin to prepare herself for that. The material needs did not worry her, for Thranduil promised he would take care of everything. But what upset her was the fact that she would be forced to be on her own, with naught but her dragons for company, to live in the wilderness like a wild beast. A sense of gloom overwhelmed her at the thought that she would be parted from Thranduil, and even from certain elves she had come to call her friends. She had always disliked loneliness, and yet life seemed so eager to serve her more of that dish, as if in mockery. Furthermore, she would have to rely completely on Thranduil for information about a possible exit of this world. And what if he indeed found something but chose to withhold it from her, until her dragons grew and were fit for battle against Sauron? And who could assure her that he did not already possess such knowledge, but deliberately kept it from her? Poisonous thoughts crept in her mind, and darkened her heart. Not few were the times she had been betrayed or tricked in her life. Why not once more? These elves were not as divine and innocent as she had first thought, after all. Hearing the councilors speak had confirmed that. Now she could place her trust in nobody. Not even in Thranduil. Yet he had told her he had chosen to trust her. Could he by lying? Could all these feelings that brewed beneath the surface between them be a deception? She refused to believe that.

Frustrated, she quickly changed into leather pants, a woolen tunic and boots, and draped her heavy cloak around her shoulders. On her way out, she did not forget to fasten Deldhin on her belt. Her fingers momentarily traced the cool metal, and she shivered. She had thought of it as a gift. _No, it cannot all be a lie,_ she told herself. Hastily she headed to the dragons' chamber. She had in mind to take Rhaegal out in the woods. It was his turn, and she wished to give him the same freedom his brothers had already tasted, once before the four of them were once and for all expelled from the Elvenking's Halls.

* * *

The following days passed in relative peace and quiet. Thranduil was mostly preoccupied with his son, and Daenerys wondered if he had truly forgotten about her and his promise to find a suitable dwelling for her in Emyn-nu-Fuin. But circumstances came to prove her wrong, when one afternoon she heard a knock on her doors, and opened them only to be met with the regal face of the Elvenking.

"Hîr nín Thranduil, I did not expect to see you", she told him with a startle.

He smiled faintly. "Forgive me for not announcing my coming in advance."

Was he mocking her?

Her brow furrowed slightly, casting dark shadows on her violet eyes. "I suppose you are here on some purpose. Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes. Of course", he replied absent-mindedly, and strolled into the room. Daenerys showed him to the sofa in front of the fireplace, and he reclined upon it, leisurely draping one arm along its back and crossing his long legs at the knee. "Have you wine, mayhap?"

She glanced at him and quirked an eyebrow, but moved to the cabinet and poured them a glass each. "Dorwinion, your favorite", she informed him as she passed him the cup.

He smiled again. "Yes…" he muttered as he brought the lip of the goblet close to his nose and inhaled the fruity aroma of the crimson liquid. "How come you keep one such bottle here?"

"I turn to it sometimes, when sleep does not seem to come", she answered him with a frown, and proceeded to take a seat in the armchair near the sofa.

Thranduil nodded in agreement. "I understand that. Wine can be good solace, when all else fails." His voice faded in the end, and they both remained silent for a while, until he spoke again. "I came here to tell you that a place has been found for you to live, and it will be prepared within the week."

He broke the news so suddenly that Daenerys gasped. "So soon?" she uttered.

He could almost taste the disappointment in her tone, and his heart wept. "It was not a difficult thing to do", he listlessly said, and took a sip from the wine.

She recollected her senses. "So when am I to leave?"

"By the coming week."

She sank back in the chair, and cast her eyes low. She had truly hoped that Legolas' arrival would buy her some more time to scour the library for hidden information, but Thranduil had not forgotten his promise, and she had indeed found nothing useful in the ancient tomes.

"It will be spring soon", he told her in a soft voice, as if he was trying to soothe her.

She nodded solemnly, but did not lift her eyes. She had accepted her fate, but now that it was so close to be realized, she felt indescribable sadness, to the point of despair. What would become of her, out there in the woods, alone in a place unknown?

"The chill of the winter will melt away, and the trees will flower", he went on, attempting to paint a pleasant picture.

She remained sulking, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She was not so strong, after all. Why did she always have to be strong? She needed to be weak now, she needed to cry and plead to stay. She was afraid to leave the safety of the Halls and the protection of the King. There were orcs and spiders out there, and who knows what else lurked in the shadows. How was she ever supposed to survive on her own?

Thranduil watched her closely, as she remained irresponsive to his words. "Daenerys", he called her name. At last she looked at him with glassy eyes. There was fear and desperation in them, and a sting of pain tore his heart. "Daenerys", he said again, "I do not like this any more than you do. But we have discussed it. It is how it has to be. At least for now. At least until I can find a better solution."

"There will never be a better solution", she murmured bleakly. "The dragons will only keep getting bigger – if they survive out there – and your people will continue to fear and despise them. It will only get worse."

"Do not despair", he said and touched her hand. Her first instinct was to yank it away, but he held her firmly, and she yielded. "Do not think my care for you is lessened, only because I have acceded to the will of the majority of my people. My care for you is unchanged", he told her tenderly.

She looked at him with a bitter smirk. "Your care? And what care is that? To keep me at a distance and yet ensure that my dragons will fly to your aid, if you go to war? You only care to benefit yourself from the situation, and you play that game very well, my lord", she accused him boldly and removed her hand from his grip.

His lips parted and his eyelids fluttered in indignation. "How dare you speak to me thus!" he hissed, leaning towards her in a threatening manner. He was incensed by her blatant words, and his eyes burned with icy fire. "You are alive thanks to me. Your dragons are alive thanks to me! I could have you be put to the sword the moment I saw those serpents crawl under your arms, but I did not. I sheltered you, I fed you, I gave you clothes to wear and jewelry to adorn yourself – I trusted you", he said, stressing the words, and by now he sounded more hurt than angry. "And this is how you repay me, by throwing my kindness back to my face. Oh, the ingratitude of men!" he lamented. "Perhaps I should have you thrown to the dungeons once more, and have your dragons executed. How would you like that?" he challenged her, and a cruel half-smile played upon his lips.

Daenerys trembled in her place, and a hot tear ran down her cheek. She had been wrong to speak such words, it had been utter folly, and she could see that now. She had worsened her position horribly, and there was no repairing the damage done. She lowered her face, and her voice was barely audible as she spoke. "Do with me as you will. I have no place in this world, and very little hope of returning to mine." She paused to take a shaky breath. "I expect no one to trust me, or love me. But I should not have insulted you. It was wrong of me. But I am dismayed. This is all I can say in my defense."

Thranduil sprang from his seat and paced around nervously, not bothering to hide his irritation. "You have caused me a great deal of trouble from the day you appeared in my path."

"It was not my choice!" she cried. "Do you think I like any bit of this life? To be a prisoner of a King I can barely understand? To have gained sympathy only amongst the plain people, while the powerful ones mistrust me and look at me with suspicion? Tell me, my lord, if I am indeed so vile, why have I not set your Halls and your forest aflame just yet? If I am here to destroy you, why have I not done it already? Why must I subject myself to these trials and humiliation?"

He looked at her with his lips drawn into a thin line. She sat there shivering, tears silently streaming down her cheeks, brow trembling in agony. He did not speak for a long time, and Daenerys finally gave up waiting for an answer. She turned her eyes to the window. Outside the light of the day was waning, and the sky turned a dim yellow. Thranduil slowly stepped close to the sill, and a deep frown was upon his handsome face. "Once, many years ago, I made a choice, which cost me the love of my son. I disappointed him, and he left…" he started in a low tone. "It took him over seventy years to forgive me and return to his home, and to his father. And I cannot give him wrong", he sighed. "I am quick to anger, and my wrath knows no bounds, when ignited." He then turned his eyes to her. "I am sorry if your life here has indeed been so unpleasant as you say. I tried to make it bearable. I see that I have failed." He turned now to fully face her. "I never considered you vile. I even defended you against my councilors' suspicions. If I did not trust you, I would never have come close to your dragons. How could you ever doubt me?" There was hurt in his voice again, and a flicker of pain in his eyes.

Daenerys remembered the conversation she had overheard. Thranduil had never shared his councilors' accusations. He had spoken in her defense, and tried to change their minds about her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I do not doubt you. They were words of anger and despair." A small, sad smile rose on her lips then. "I am glad that your son is back. You are lucky to have him. I wish I had mine", she whispered, and hastily wiped away a fresh tear.

The Elvenking approached her and looked down on her grieving face. "The baby you lost?" he asked softly.

"The witch's black sorcery had him dead before he was born. I was foolish enough to trust her to save my husband, and she took my unborn baby's life in exchange for his. But Drogo never truly lived, and I lost my son because of her lies. Never again will I be able to bear another child, she told me this. Do you understand now why my dragons mean so much to me?" she turned her glistening eyes to him.

His countenance became grave. "Yours is a sad tale. You are so young, and yet you have known so much death and misfortune. I never meant to cause you more grief", he told her almost apologetically. "You are safe, whilst under my protection. No harm will come to you, or your dragons. And you will have guards in your new home, for your own protection, and for my councilors to be appeased. They would not trust you roaming free with three great serpents."

"So I am not to be thrown into the dungeons?"

He dared a small smile. "No. It was an idle threat, spoken in anger."

A light was lit in her eyes then. "I know that you care for me", she whispered to him, and her eyes never left his.

He was a little surprised by her comment, for he had not expected her to talk about that. "I do…" he breathed.

She rose from her seat and stood to face him. "I do not wish to be parted from you."

His expression turned more sorrowful, and he closed his eyes. "There is no other way."

She then extended her hand, and touched his fingers. Her move sent a jolt of shiver down his spine, and his heart took up a faster beat. But his fingers sought to entwine with hers, as if they were possessed by a will of their own.

"How much longer must we deny what is plain truth?" she asked him in a whispering voice.

He peered deep into her eyes. "If we acknowledge it, it will only cause us pain."

"It causes me pain to deny it."

His fingertips touched her chin then, gracefully, and ever so lightly, that Daenerys felt as if she was being caressed by a feather. She inhaled his scent – trees, leaves, flowers, earth, and something strong and male, but indefinable, which was exclusively him – and closed her eyes, relishing the sensation. She needed nothing more than to be touched and soothed by him. Somehow, when he was close, and when his spirit engulfed her, she felt safe, hopeful, invulnerable even. He lent her a sense of completion, which she sorely missed, when he was not with her. His own defenses began to relax then, and warmth emanated from his whole being, body and soul. And his warmth wandered over to Daenerys and touched her soul, and made her heart sing and flutter. His fingers were still beneath her chin, and he gazed at her with a loving smile. She then dipped her head and rested it on his chest, just beneath the hollow of his throat. Her arms came to slowly embrace him, and Thranduil shivered as he felt her conquering him. There was only Daenerys for him now. The air he breathed was hers, and it smelled of fire, seawind and summer nights. The thoughts he thought were hers, and they were of love and kisses and limbs tangling in passion beneath sheets. And the life he lived was hers, and it was full of new wonders and bloodred horizons waiting to be discovered. He held her there against his breast, wondering if she felt and saw the same things he did. She dropped then a kiss on the exposed skin at the base of his throat, and he was assured that she did.

* * *

Translations

Le suilon, adar = I greet you, father (Sindarin)

Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn, ionneg = A star shines at the time of our meeting, my little boy (Sindarin)

Mae tollen na mar = Welcome back (Sindarin)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The day when Daenerys was to leave Thranduil's Halls came at last. Luineth and Istuives came forth to bid her farewell, as she was now standing by the bridge. These ellith had been her truest friends during all those months she had spent here, and they were sad to see her go. But the dragons were another matter entirely, and no elf was displeased to see them removed from their home.

The Elvenking himself strode out of the gates then, leading his great elk. He glanced about. There was Daenerys, dressed in hues of light blue, with her silver hair done in fine braids, radiant and beautiful as ever, but her eyes betrayed her sorrow. A large cart awaited at the side, and upon it was an iron cage. The three dragons were locked inside it, and they had barely enough space to move and breathe. Four more elves dressed in a guard's attire were already mounted and awaited departure. They would escort Daenerys to her new home. The King walked up to her, and gave her a small smile.

"Daenerys…"

"My lord", she responded, noticing how his eyes caught and reflected the light of the sun.

"It is time we went. My wish is to accompany you to your dwelling, and make sure you are settled there, and that all your needs are cared for", he told her, and in his tone she could sense some edginess.

"I will be alright. I only wish my dragons did not have to travel caged thus. They are suffering, confined in such a narrow space", she complained.

He glanced at the beasts, which snorted with irritation. "It will be for no more than a day. Talk to them, soothe them, tell them to be patient. And then they can have all the freedom they want", he said.

"Will they?" Daenerys doubted it. The guards would be watching her day and night, and she had been instructed that she would be allowed to take out only one dragon at a time. She and her beasts might be removed from the Halls, but they would not be too far off, in case she wished to cause them harm.

Thranduil sighed, and answered her not. Instead, he motioned for the entourage to start off. Daenerys mounted her horse, and followed the guards. Beside her rode the King, while the dragon-cart lagged behind, pulled by strong but slow oxen. _Once again I am driven from a place I have come to call home. How much longer must I live thus?_ Daenerys wondered bitterly. A sense of forlornness overwhelmed her, and she made to look back at the great cavernous Halls, as they rode across the forest river, but she stopped herself. _I must never look back. If I look back, I am lost,_ she reminded herself, and steeled her resolve. To take her mind off of such treacherous thoughts, she turned her eyes to the King, who rode with a frown and a solemn look was upon him. Clearly, he was no less unhappy than she was.

"Hîr nín", she called to him, and he looked at her. "What troubles you?"

He gazed ahead again, patting lightly the neck of his elk. "I spoke to my son about you the other day. It seems he is of one mind with my councilors. The presence of the dragons has made everyone restless. And I can understand that. I only wish my people trusted me more… but not few are those who dislike me of late, and even consider me half-mad", he murmured gloomily.

"Why would you say so?" she asked him with genuine concern.

He glanced briefly at her. The light of the morning made her eyes gleam like precious amethysts. "The discontent began shortly after the death of my Queen, when I became colder, stricter, and chose to be isolated and withdrawn from the world. But that displeasure, although existent, was not voiced openly. They feared my wrath, I suppose, and understood my pain. But the sentiment was stirred anew when I took you in. They thought me mad to house and feed dragons – dragons, of all things living! Dragonfire nearly destroyed the host of the Valar, dragonfire left me half-burned, dragonfire…" his voice trailed off, while his fingers clutched the reins nervously.

She remembered the councilors mentioning some disfigurement, and now Thranduil himself spoke about being half-burned… But no scars were visible to her. _Perhaps it is the exemplary healing capacity of the elves,_ she thought. "I am sorry you have faced such opposition on my behalf. You should have told me sooner, and I should have left sooner", she said.

"I have walked on this world for far too long…" he murmured, as if he had not heard her words at all. "Perhaps my judgement is clouded."

"It is not", she firmly said, causing him to look at her. "You were not wrong to trust me, and I mean to show you my gratitude. I mean to prove it, in any way I can."

He smiled faintly, but remained silent. They rode south through the forest, on a trail narrow and on uneven ground. The rains of the past days had turned the soil into treacherous mud. Roots protruded from the ground, causing the mounts to misstep often, and branches hang low from the dark trees, hindering their sight. The woods grew denser and a sense of foreboding was about the farther south they went. Daenerys shivered, and held on her horse's reins tightly. She was an excellent rider, having resided with the Dothraki for long, and the difficult ride through the woods did not scare her. What scared her was the forest itself, and for the first time she felt the darkness looming over her from all sides. It was as if a sickness plagued the place, seeping cunningly into every growing thing, tainting it and poisoning it. Shadows crept behind bush and leaf, and whispers flowed in the wind, speaking words in nameless tongues. The light that reached the riders was scarce and dim, and though it was high noon, the woods were dark and grey, and an unnatural chill permeated the air. No birds sang, no winter-flowers bloomed. Everything seemed still and dead, as if frozen in time and place by some greater dark force.

Daenerys glanced at Thranduil. He rode on, his brow set in a deep frown, and his eyes fixed ahead. He looked cold as a statue himself, not unlike his forest. "My lord?" she called to him quietly, and he glanced at her. "The forest is too dark here…" she murmured.

He nodded. "It is as I told you. The long arm of the Enemy has swept through it, depraving it of its beauty and innocence. Now it is bleak, and evil lurks in what once were the greenest trees in all of Middle-Earth. Ride close to me, and fear not. Where the elves tread, foul creatures dare not lightly go."

His voice had been steady and calm, and she placed her trust in him. She looked backwards to where the cart was following. The dragonlings were quiet, looking around them with questioning eyes. _They dislike the forest as much as I do,_ their mother thought. Then she led her mount closer to the King. "The forest around your Halls was not so dark and ominous."

"The power of the elves is stronger there. The creatures of darkness dare not come so close to our abode. But the closer to Dol Guldur we go, the lesser becomes our power, and that of the Dark Lord increases. The woods there are black and barren. Clouds hang heavy always above the fortress, and there is ash and death in the air. Wraiths and evil spirits haunt the place, bearers of the will of Sauron", he described.

Daenerys looked around and nodded. "Tell me about the place I am to live in now", she asked of him.

"An old elven house has been prepared for you. It is half-built in the hillside, and there are large caverns for your dragons to dwell and grow undisturbed. The house has a hearth, and its walls are thick. You shall not lack warmth or protection."

"Protection?"

"You shall have guards stationed there. They will see that no harm comes to you", he replied.

"You mean they will make sure my dragons and I will not seek to harm anyone", she remarked pointedly.

He gave her a stern look. "Be it as it may."

"I pledged you my allegiance", she reminded him.

"I do not forget. And I know you will not seek to harm anyone. The guards have instructions to protect you. I trust you will not feed them to the dragons", he told her with a half-smile.

Laughter escaped her lips, attracting the attention of the other elves. They gave her weird looks. She was being exiled, of a sort. How could she laugh?

"Hush", Thranduil told her. "We best keep quiet here. We never know who might be listening, and the Enemy has many spies in all forms."

"He sounds like a regular King of my world", she commented in bitter jest.

"Is that world of yours really so terrible? I wonder why you wish so fervently to return…"

"Because it is my world. It is where I belong, and where it is my birthright to rule. Would you lightheartedly abandon your own home, even though it might be dark and dangerous?" she challenged him.

He looked at her, and in his eyes she saw all the sorrow of the world. "I have abandoned my home thrice, for thrice it was taken from me. Doriath, Lindon, Amon Lanc. Do you know where Amon Lanc is, Daenerys?" Her puzzled look prompted him to speak on. "It is what we now call Dol Guldur. That fortress up there, black and horrible as it looks today, was once my father's home, and from there he ruled peacefully for a time."

"It must hurt terribly to see your own home defiled by evil…" she mused.

"It does", he simply said, and looked into her eyes. She looked back at him, feeling for his sorrow.

"I know what it means to be chased from your own home, to be forced to seek refuge elsewhere. This has been my life since I was a small child. Hunted by the Usurper's assassins, I was dragged from one place to another, never finding peace. I intend to stop running. I intend to take back what it mine", she said in a low but determined tone.

"If there is a way for you to return to your world, I vow to do everything within my power to find it for you", he told her, and his eyes glowed with tenderness and devotion.

All she wanted then was to reach for him, to take his hand in hers, to feel his soothing touch. But she could not do that. All she could give him now was a smile and a nod, in hopes he could read her thoughts. A familiar light washed over her then, and she embraced the sensation wholly. She knew then he understood what she meant to tell him but could not, and her smile widened. "Thank you", she whispered to him from her heart.

He looked into her eyes for a long moment, unwilling to break the connection. But finally he did, and turned to the retinue. "We shall make camp for the night, for the day is waning", he announced. "We shall reach your new home by tomorrow morning", he told Daenerys, and helped her dismount. In truth, she was perfectly capable of dismounting on her own, but she took advantage of the chance to be closer to him. He took her by the waist, and she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he lifted her from the saddle. Her weight was nothing to him, and she felt light as a feather in his arms. She held onto him as he gently placed her on her feet, and for a moment his hands lingered on her hips. His eyes were stormy with restrained passion, but he forced himself to disentangle from her. The loss of his touch left her with a feeling of desolation, but she did nothing to prevent him from leaving her. The guards were watching; they were not alone. And even if they were, they both knew very well that there was no future for them. Whatever feelings they might have were doomed to die.

The elves lit a fire and erected three tents. Two larger ones, one for the King and the other for themselves, and a third smaller one for Daenerys. A pot was placed on the fire, and one of the elves took to preparing broth for dinner. Another tended to the mounts, while the rest two took to patrolling the area.

Daenerys went to the dragon-cage. At once her dragons extended their long necks and reached for her fingers. "My poor sweetlings…" she murmured to them lovingly in High Valyrian. "Such proud creatures you are. Will you ever forgive me for the misfortune I have brought unto you? You ought to roam the skies free and strong, not be confined like rats in a cage." A tear rolled down her cheek. Drogon yowled, sensing his mother's distress. "Hush, Drogon. We must be quiet here", she instructed him, stroking him between the eyes. He was pacified, and lowered his head upon his curled tail. "Are you hungry, Rhaegal?" she asked the green dragon, who looked restless. "I will soon bring you food", she promised. He tried to flap his wings in response, only to bump against Viserion, who shrieked menacingly at his brother. "Quiet, quiet now. What did I tell you?" she scolded the pale dragon and he recoiled.

"They are hungry, I imagine", a voice spoke to her from behind, and she turned to see the King. He came and stood beside her. "There, I brought you some slabs of meat to feed them", he told her and passed her a leather sack with cuts of raw meat in it.

"Can we unlock them?"

"It would be unwise now. They might fly off and cause unrest in the woods. We must not attract attention", he replied.

She nodded gloomily, but in understanding. "Be a little more patient, my beautiful little miracles. Soon you will be out of this cage, but it cannot be tonight", she told them. "Feed now", she said and held a piece of meat in front of Drogon's nose. He let out a small flame, roasting the meat, but her hand remained unharmed. Then he took the food form her finger with a gentleness Thranduil thought impossible for such a creature. He watched her in awe as she repeated the process with the rest of the meat, feeding all of her dragons.

"How can it be that the fire does not harm you…" he wondered. "The flames were small, but I could feel their heat, even from a distance".

She turned to him with bright eyes. "I am Targaryen, the blood of the dragon. Fire cannot harm a dragon."

"Yes… And I have seen you touch the flames before, but every time it is a marvel to behold. I wish I had your gift…" he muttered.

She looked at him, and he seemed grim. "You said you were half-burned by dragonfire…" she started, unsure of how to touch upon this subject, for she knew not how he might react.

And true enough, uneasiness crept in his gaze. "I was", he admitted, avoiding her eyes. "Dragonfire nearly killed me... But I was doomed to live."

"Doomed?" she wondered at his choice of word.

"For a long time, it felt like doom. The pain of my burned left side was unbearable. I wished for death to deliver me night and day, but it would not come. I spent endless weeks in agony, unable to sleep, or eat, or even breathe properly", he said, opening his heart to her. He knew not what strange feeling pushed him to tell Daenerys of all this, yet he did, and his heart felt a little lighter for that.

"But you are healed now. I see no scars", she deduced, watching him closely.

"Oh, but there are scars, deep and terrible…" he whispered. "This face you see… is not real", he confessed in a broken tone, and looked at her.

She studied his face, his features. They seemed perfect as ever to her. "What do you mean?"

"Would you care to see my true face? It is a horrid sight, though, ugly, forever bearing the mark of my past." His gaze flickered, as he awaited her response.

Fear took hold of her. What could he possibly mean? But she would not cower now. "I would", she told him, never removing her eyes from his.

He took a shaky breath. If he showed her his true from, he risked losing her. She might look at him with disgust and fear, she might walk away from him, she might… But something in his heart urged him to trust her. And so he did, and he removed the façade of beauty that covered the scars on the left side of his face and body. And those scars were revealed to her.

Daenerys watched the beauty of his face fade, and its place took long scars, reaching from ear to cheek and extending down his neck, disappearing underneath his collar. Skin and muscle had become one contracted, stiff and inflexible mass, while his left eye was milky-white and blind. Her brow trembled, and compassion filled her gaze. But she moved not from her place, and kept looking at him with sorrow.

"Please, do not look at me with pity", he asked of her, and turned his face away, hiding his injured side from her sight, his lips now drawn into a thin line and his brow furrowed. He hated inducing the pity of others, and that was the main reason he had chosen to put a glamor over his scars. He cared little to seem beautiful, but he cared much not to be seen as weak and pitiful.

She shook her head. "No, not pity. Do not turn your face from me", she demanded in a voice firm but gentle. Reluctantly he obeyed, and she saw his scars again. But this time her gaze did not flicker. Instead, she lifted her hand and touched his deformed cheek. He shivered, and closed his eyes. "You have every right to abhor dragons. Their fire ruined you. But I promise you that dragonfire will save you, too."

She dropped her hand, daring not to linger much, lest she cause him discomfort. He sighed, glad that she accepted him as he was, but missing her touch already. But he did not allow his sorrow to show. "Thank you for seeing beneath the surface. It means a lot to me", he told her.

Daenerys smiled, and took his left hand. It was also scarred, the skin dry and taut over the tendons and bones. Her smile slowly faded then, and she asked him, "How far do these scars extend?"

"All of the left side of my body. Face and shoulder, arm and hip and leg. All of it a bitter ruin of skin and sinew", he replied in plain words, frank and clear as the sun on a summer day.

"And you bore your pain alone?"

"No… I was very young when this happened, and I had my parents to care for me. Had it not been for their love, I would have certainly given myself unto death. For the knowledge that my beauty had been ruined devastated me. It may sound trivial to you, and I care little for my beauty today, but at the time everything look different to me. The pain of my injuries combined with my despair made my days an endless torment. I thought there would be no future for me, so unsightly was my visage… And physical perfection is celebrated by the elves. My thoughts were to abandon life, and I yearned for death to take me… But my parents' tireless care and constant presence by my side gave me the will and the strength to live. My father would sing to me of my bravery to face a dragon on my own, and my mother would soothe my fears, when I spent the nights crying like a babe in her arms, although I was a child no more. The ache on the left side of my body stole away my sleep, and took years to subside… For a human would have perished from injuries such as mine. But elves are far more durable, and we can overcome grievous wounds, unless we forsake life, and grief consumes us. But my fate was to live on, and forever to bear the mark of my past", he explained in a low and defeated tone.

She took his right hand as well, holding them both now. "Death seems so compelling and sweet at times. I do not know what bound me to life after I lost my son and my husband. Perhaps it was the hope that their deaths could pay for life for my dragons. And with that crazy thought I climbed onto Drogo's pyre and laid the eggs beside him, and allowed the flames to take us all. I was not wrong, for I woke with three dragon hatchlings in my arms. You see, Thranduil, no death is in vain, and life is a precious gift, and it is not given lightly, or to be wasted and thrown away", she told him, and warmth emanated from her body, and her fingers caressed his with utmost tenderness.

He looked at her and marveled. "Such wisdom coming from one so young, and yet here I stand with all my countless years, and I am not half as wise as you", he uttered.

"Wisdom comes naturally to women, for all our life is pain and sacrifice", she replied.

He freed his good hand and lightly touched her braid. "It need not always be so, my Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

She spontaneously smiled at his unexpected comment, and Drogon snorted from within the cage, reminding them of the dragons' presence. "Perhaps one day it will not", she murmured, turning from Thranduil to stroke the black dragon's nose.

The King then brought back the glamor upon his scars and straightened his back. "I shall walk back to the fire now. Dinner must be ready. Join me whenever you wish", he told her.

She looked at him and nodded, and then he left.

* * *

The night had fallen for good, when Thranduil heard the front sheet of his tent rustling open. He sprang to his feet and peered into the darkness. "Who walks there?" he demanded, reaching for his sword.

But then the dim candlelight revealed the face of Daenerys. "I do", she said.

"So bold of you to walk into my tent at such an hour", he commented, hasting to tie the cord of his robes around his waist.

"It is", she admitted, and came to stand before him. A glance to the back informed her that the King traveled with little luxury, for there was no bed, but only furs and sheets on the ground. A lone candle on a flat rock provided the room with flickering light, and on a wooden tripod hung the Elvenking's armor and cloak.

He gazed down at her, and the fire in her eyes flustered him. "What do you want?" he asked in a nearly hissing voice.

"I could not sleep. How could I, knowing that come tomorrow you and I will be sundered?" She stepped closer still, her body only a breath away from his. "I had to see you."

"Daenerys…" he sighed, inhaling her intoxicating scent. "This is a mistake", he protested, and yet his eyes wandered from her eyes to her lips, and lower still, to the gentle swell of her breasts beneath her tunic.

"Is it?" Her fingers went to the hollow of his throat, where his loose robes exposed his skin. She touched him lightly, tracing the line of his clavicle up to his shoulder. "I want to see your scars. I want to see you", she asked of him, and her eyes were burning with yearning for him, for all that he could give her.

He looked at her for a long moment, and then his hand went to the loose knot. One decisive tug at the cord and it fell apart, and his robes slid from his shoulders and pooled around his feet. He was stark naked beneath, but Daenerys was not embarrassed to gaze at his nudity. He slowly let the glamor fade, and once again the horrible scars appeared on his face. But now she could see them in all their horrid glory, for truly, as he had told her, they ran down the whole of his left side, stopping just below the knee. Gone was the strong curve of his shoulder, and tight skin covered his ribs. White scar tissue glistened along his long lower limb, but she noticed that the marks on his upper body were worse.

"It was towards the end of the War of Wrath… Morgoth, sensing his impending defeat, unleashed his most terrible servants from Angband. It was the first time that Middle-Earth saw the winged serpents scour the skies. When Ancalagon and his minions flew forth, the ground shook and tempests of fire and lightning accompanied their attack", he started solemnly. "I served in King Thingol's military at the time, a Lieutenant in his army. I stood with my soldiers, swords drawn in defiance, but in truth the blood was frozen in our veins. The dragon came from above", he narrated. "A beast huge as a tower, crimson-scaled and fork-tongued. My valiant warriors darted in front of me, taking the worst of the flames. I managed a deep gash in the beast's underbelly before I felt half of my body being set aflame. Blinding pain took me, and I felt my flesh melting on my bones. My skin on my chest boiled beneath my red-hot plate armor, and the metal stuck on it. I cannot tell you what a torture it had been to remove the armor from my body afterwards. All I remember is sizzling pain, and crippling fear", he sighed, and a tremble shook him, as the memories were now vivid in his mind.

Wordlessly she caressed his left shoulder, and felt him shiver. Her hand then softly glided down his arm, until she took his hand in hers. "You have trusted me with your truth."

"You should never have doubted my trust", he whispered to her in a voice thick with emotion.

She pulled him to her then, and wound her arms about him, drawing him into a tender embrace. He held her to his breast, and lowered his lips on her head, dropping a kiss on top of it. Her fingers traced his back, strong and healthy on the right side, scarred and ruined on the left. He was naked in her arms, vulnerable and exposed, without his glamor to hide him or his cold and detached manner, which she knew was his defense against the evils of the world. He was just a man – an ellon – in her arms, a man who had suffered a lot through his life, but was so afraid and even ashamed to seek comfort, acceptance, solace – love.

She drew a little back then, and lifted her eyes to his. One clear silver-blue eye looked back at her, and a blind white one stared blankly into the void. "I do not want you to feel sorry for me. I do not want you to pity me", he murmured.

"No." A small smile rose on her lips, and in her eyes he saw the kindest look he had ever seen. "You want me to love you."

His lips parted, and his heart skipped a beat. _You want me to love you._ How true it rang in his ears! How liberating, once spoken by her, the truth he had been denying for centuries. He wanted to be loved. Such plain and yet such powerful words.

And yet his words betrayed him. "I would never…"

"Hush. Speak not. I would rather you gave me what you since long owe me", she told him, and moved one hand to cup his cheek, her eyes dancing on his lips now.

Her touch set his skin ablaze with desire. How much longer would the dam that confined his feelings and his needs hold? Mirroring her move, his fingers grazed her chin, her jawline, her ear, falling to the back of her head. Slowly his face descended upon hers, and she eagerly reached for him, tiptoeing, for he was much taller than her. Her effort made him smile, and he put an arm around her, holding her close and steady. Her front was pressed against his, and desire pooled in her loins. His lips touched hers then, slow and tentative, but Daenerys was done being reluctant. Her mouth opened for his, inviting him to taste her. And then the dam of his feelings broke, and he gave in to her kiss with fervor, his tongue playing with hers, exploring, teasing, arousing. His arm around her back pressed her closer still, while the other held her face to his, fingers threading through silver tresses, while his mouth ravished hers, unable to get all he wanted, starving for her kiss and never sated.

She molded her body against his, digging her fingers into the skin of his back. As she traced the scars, she thought with sorrow that he probably felt nothing on the left side. Neither cold nor warmth, neither pain nor her arduous touch. Her hands traveled lower then, resting on his narrow hips. She longed to touch him further, but she worried not to upset him, for she knew that elves were not like men in the ways of love, and cherished and revered bodily union as something sacred. And so she refrained from touching him, although the persistent press of his manhood against her belly told her that he truly wanted her, body and soul.

He broke their kiss for air then, and rested his forehead against hers, holding her now by the shoulders. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. _What am I doing?_ He reprimanded himself mentally for giving into his desire. "This is folly…" he muttered breathlessly.

"Thranduil…" she touched his cheek and forced him to look at her. "Denying the truth will not unmake it. What we feel… it is real."

She kissed him again then, more languidly this time, giving him time to adjust and accept it. He shivered once more in her arms as she kissed him, overwhelmed with his feelings for her. And his mouth was hers, his tongue eagerly twining with hers again, tasting her, kissing her with abandon. His hands dared glide over her hips, following the enticing curves of her body. Upwards they moved, and then downwards, repeating the motion a few times, as if he was mapping her shape and committing it to memory. His breath came more erratic then, as his hands slid to her backside, gently squeezing her flesh there. She gasped, and he squeezed her again, aroused further by her reaction.

She burned to touch him then, but she put all her will not to. It was all happening so fast; what if they regretted it afterwards? "Thranduil", she called to him, breaking their kiss. He looked at her in a daze. "We should stop."

His gaze cleared then, and he removed his hands from her hips. He took a small step back, disentangling himself from her. Chill air engulfed him, taking the place of her warmth. His chest and neck were flushed with lingering excitement, while his manhood stubbornly declared his yearning for her. A wave of shame drowned him then, and he hastened to retrieve his robes from the ground. "Yes", he muttered uneasily.

But she placed a hand on his shoulder as he stooped, noticing his discomfiture. He turned his eyes to her and rose to his height, holding the garment to his front. "What is this sudden notion of modesty, my proud King?" she teased him sweetly.

He smiled and cast his eyes low, feeling his anxiousness gradually dissipate. "I felt embarrassed under your gaze, when you told me to stop", he confessed.

"You need not be. Make no mistake, I desire you as much as you desire me… But I feared you might regret it afterwards, if we indeed lay together tonight", she told him. "Embarrassment is mine, for strolling audaciously into the King's tent in the dead of night."

Calmer now, he caressed her tresses. "I regret nothing." The glamor was back on his face, and he looked at her with gleaming eyes. "But I will not haste to have all of you at once. It is my promise to you that I will return to you in your new home."

She peered deep into his eyes and nodded. "And I will hold you to your promise."

At that she parted from him, and with one last look she turned and marched out of the tent. Thranduil lowered himself on his makeshift bed, though he much doubted that any sleep would come to him tonight, after what he had just tasted.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The sun was high up in the sky when Daenerys and her escort reached her new home. They rode over low hills until they reached a large crag. Beneath it an elven home was once built, and now it was repaired and ready to welcome her. There was a small yard in front of it, and a large oak tree provided shade. Beneath the tree was a wooden table and two chairs, and a well was at the other side of the yard. The house was made after the elven fashion, with domed windows and tall pillars supporting the arched doors. The back side of the house was built into the rock and was one with it, thus providing it with protection against strong winds, which were not uncommon in this area.

They rode into the yard and dismounted, and Daenerys gave a good look around, as she tethered her horse to the oak tree. The hill was grey and the ground muddy, but surely it would turn green come spring. There was a small structure where the yard began, and it looked like a guardhouse. She inwardly sighed. _The guards have instructions to protect you,_ Thranduil had told her. As much as she wanted to believe him, she was certain that the guards had been an idea of the council. For what more protection needed she, when she had three dragons? Undoubtedly, the guards were tasked with keeping a sharp eye on her. Walking further ahead, she looked at the house. The sight of it was not displeasing, built from stone and two-storey, though she wondered how it might look on the inside.

"Here we are", announced the King. "This is your new home, Daenerys. I hope you are not too disappointed", he said to her.

She gave him a small smile. "I am not. I have lived in much worse conditions, and this house looks welcoming enough. Thank you", she replied, her mind fleetingly traveling to her nomadic life with the Dothraki and their crude tents.

The dragon-cart entered then the yard, creaking as it rolled on uneven ground. "Where are my dragons going to live?" she wondered, as she looked at the narrow door of the house. She doubted a dragon could fit through there.

"There is an opening to the east side of the crag, just as you go round this rock", Thranduil replied. "Come, I will show you", he said and motioned for the cage to be transferred there.

True enough, there was a large opening in the hillside, barred with heavy iron doors. The elven guards went and unlocked them, and the cart moved towards them. "The hill is cavernous here. The dragons will have much space, even as they grow", the Elvenking told her. Daenerys nodded and walked through the doors. There were two large braziers on either side of the doorway, and several torches upon the walls, lending their dim, orange light to the large cavern. For the cavern was large indeed, and Daenerys looked up to its domed roof as she walked inside, and saw that is was several meters high, the ceiling barely visible in the darkness. The main cave extended into smaller ones further back, as far as the eye could see. "This has been a refuge for my people in times past", Thranduil said, and his voice echoed on the walls. "The caverns are well-mapped. You shall have no fear of getting lost in them, for they are large but not labyrinthine. And look here", he said and took her gently by the elbow, leading her to the western wall of the cave. There was a wooden door, too small for dragons to pass through, but perfect for a person. "There is a tunnel behind it, connecting the caverns to your home. You can come to your dragons as often as you like, not having to brace the weather outside", he explained with a fond smile.

She turned the doorknob and a tunnel appeared behind the door as she opened it, just like Thranduil had described. It was short, and another door was visible at the other end. She closed the door and turned to him, looking pleased. "This is convenient. Thank you". The King nodded. "Now let me see how the dragons like it…" she said and walked towards the cart. The elves unloaded the cage, but were afraid to unlock it themselves. Daenerys approached them. "Give me the key", she asked of them. The keeper of the keys looked at his King, who followed behind Daenerys, and he gestured his permission. The key was handed to her, and soon the door of the cage opened. "Come out, my sweetlings", she coaxed the dragons to abandon their prison. "Here you will have all the space you need."

Drogon jumped out first, and his brothers crawled out right after him. They flapped their wings and swung their tails, causing the elves to step backwards in fear. "They will not harm you", she told them. "Unless you seek to harm them." The guards shook their heads, but preferred to keep their distance.

Then the Elvenking spoke. "Hand me the keys, and remove the cart. Make sure Daenerys' belongings are safely moved in the house. Then go and resume your positions. I have no further need of you here", he said, dismissing them.

As soon as the elves left, he turned to Daenerys and handed her the keys. "It was the best place we could find for you and the dragons."

"I know. For an abode far from you, it will have to do", she responded, locking her eyes with his.

He took a step closer. "What happened last night…"

She raised her hand, interrupting him. "I know what you are about to say. You think it was a mistake." Her voice was even, but there was pain hidden beneath the surface, and Thranduil sensed it.

"No. I meant to say that what happened last night will be cherished in my memory forever", he told her in a tone low and sad.

Her gaze flickered then like candlelight, and she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in the hollow of his throat. He closed his arms about her and held her to him, softly caressing her back. But Viserion screeched, forcing them to break apart and turn their attention back to the dragons. Daenerys left Thranduil and went to pet the cream-and-gold dragon. "What is it, my little one? Do you not like it here?" He wagged his tail and snorted a puff of black smoke in response. "Soon you will be free to fly, and hunt, and grow to be a mighty dragon, like your ancestors… Who will you be like, Viserion? Will you be like Meraxes, who was silver and gold-eyed? But no, poor Meraxes met an untimely end. You shall live to see me conquer the Seven Kingdoms."

The Elvenking went beside her. "Who was Meraxes? A dragon, I surmise? I was unable to understand all you said in Valyrian…"

Daenerys smiled up at him. "Yes, she was a great dragon. When Aegon and his sister-wives, Visenya and Rhaenys, came to Westeros, they came upon dragons. Do you remember when I told you of him?"

"I do."

"Their dragons were Balerion, Vhagar and Meraxes. Balerion was the largest, and black in color. Aegon rode him. Vhagar was Visenya's dragon, and Meraxes was ridden by Rhaenys. But they both died in war, when a scorpion bolt pierced the dragon through the eye, and they fell to their death from the sky", she narrated. "Such a sad story, is it not, Thranduil? Aegon lost his favorite Queen, and one of the three great dragons died."

"Yes, it is a sad story… But sadness and death are interwoven with life and joy. It seems one cannot exist without its opposite", he mused. "But come now, I would like to show you the house before I go."

She nodded, and made sure to lock the heavy iron gates before she followed Thranduil through the short tunnel. They came into a spacious room with two large windows and a hearth. A sofa and an armchair sat before the fireplace, and a small trestle table was in front of them. The living room was separated from the kitchen by a wooden wall, and a heavy, brocade curtain hung from the arched opening, serving as door. Daenerys pushed it aside and walked through, and looked at the kitchen. There was an oven and a large leather basket full of logs beside it. There were wooden shelves on the walls, and a long table with two benches in the center of the room. Various sacks were stacked against the opposite wall. She went and had a look at them, and saw that they were filled with flour, grains, nuts, and dried fruit. Plates, cutlery, cups, pots and pans were on the shelves, as well as jars and vials filled with various herbs and oils. A large window provided the room with ample light.

"Everything has been made ready. You shall want for nothing", said Thranduil, as he walked after her, quietly observing her as she explored her new home.

"I can see that. It is impressive. And I like the kitchen. It is large and sunny. But where is the bedroom?"

"I will show you", he offered, and led her to it. They walked out of the kitchen and towards the southern wall of the living room, which was the wall of the cavern itself. A staircase was carved in the rock, and it led upstairs. After their ascent, they emerged into a square room hewn entirely into the cavern, but for its wooden floor. A large bed took up most of the space, and against one wall was a wardrobe and a cabinet, while a fireplace was on the other. In the corner was a desk and a chair. The room even had a small balcony on the western side. The King stood by the door and asked her, "How do you like it?"

"It is pleasant enough", she answered him, noticing the thick carpet on the floor and the soft coverlets of the bed. The bed itself was canopied, and its posts were intricate and fashioned after leaves and branches.

"I did not want you to feel exiled, or as if taken to another prison", he told her.

"It will take me some time to adjust to my new quarters, but I already like them well enough", she said, but then turned to him with sorrow in her eyes. "It is not the house that worries me, Thranduil, but loneliness", she confessed. "And I doubt the guards will care to be much friendly, when there are three dragons inside the cave. I see how they despise them."

His countenance grew grim. "I understand. But it could not be helped. All I can promise you is that I will visit you as often as it is possible, and when it is not, I shall write to you. Your friends Luineth and Istuives may visit from time to time as well. They expressed the desire and I granted them permission, of course. You were not friendless in my Halls, Daenerys. And I would not have had you removed, had it not been for the great insistence of the council and the displeasure I saw in my folk daily", he explained.

"I know your reasons, and I do not say they are unjust. Were I Queen, I would do the same. Sometimes exile must be imposed on friends even…" she sighed, and took his hand. "Do not feel sorry for me. I know how to fend for myself", she told him with a weak smile.

"No… I admire you", he responded, giving her small hand a gentle squeeze, and looked deep into her violet eyes. His hand crept to her temple, and his thumb traced her cheekbone. "I will miss these captivating eyes of yours…"

Her heart fluttered and she shivered at his touch, but she did her best to keep her tears at bay. "As I will miss the starlight in yours", she whispered to him tenderly.

He wanted to bend and kiss her then, but he prevented himself from giving into his urge, for he did not wish to make parting more difficult for them both. "I have a gift for you", he said, and her gaze lit up with question. "Would you like to see it?"

"Yes…"

"Wait here then", he asked of her and quickly went for the stairs. In a few minutes he was back, holding a leather-bound parcel in his hands. "Here. I hope they will aid you in your search for a way back to your world."

Daenerys unfolded the leather, and three ancient tomes came into view. The script on their covers was almost faded, and the pages were yellowed, but their content seemed promising. "Of Hidden Truths", she read the title aloud, noticing that all three books were subdivisions of the same work.

"They belonged to my mother", said Thranduil. "She took them with her when we left Doriath, and Doriath boasted the largest library at the time. These books are very rare, written in the First Age by elves wise and ancient, who had seen the light of the Two Trees and knew the secrets of the Valar. As you can see, their subject is rather obscure – occult even. My mother was interested in such things… I have never read the books myself, and they had been gathering dust on my shelves for centuries now. Perhaps they will be of greater use to you", he concluded.

"They are a real treasure. I hope to find what I seek in their pages. Thank you, Thranduil", she told him and, placing the books on the bed, drew him into a warm hug.

He smiled at her reaction. "You are welcome", he murmured as he held her, inhaling her scent, while her warmth invaded his senses, rousing him. But he forced himself to disentangle from her arms, and he held her softly by the elbows. "Promise me that you will be safe here", he asked of her, and there was sadness and worry in his tone.

Daenerys understood then that this was goodbye. "You had better ask that of my dragons. If they will not keep their mother safe, then who will?" she replied, and sorrow lined her words as well, for though she had intended to lighten the atmosphere, her voice came through more melancholy than she had wished.

A small smile rose on his lips. "I would not bet against them", he said, and she smiled as well. "See that they enjoy the freedom they deserve… But take my advice and keep them away from the south, for there lies Dol Guldur, and the enemy will seek to subdue their will and bend them to his purpose. Keep them away from the north as well, else the dwarves of Erebor will know dragons roam Middle-Earth again, and the hatred they harbor for them in unmatched. East and west they may fly at will, and if they roast some orcs and spiders as they go, I will be all the more grateful", he told her, giving her a half-smile in the end, and she laughed.

"I will take your advice. We shall not cause you trouble when we can avoid it", she promised him.

The Elvenking looked at her and nodded with fondness in his gaze. "Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog", he whispered to her.

Her smile grew sweeter, and she touched his shoulder, her fingers gliding over the rich fabric of his cloak to the exposed skin of his neck. It was cool and smooth, and she burned to touch him further, but knew she should not. Her memory of last night would have to suffice as her only consolation during the long days to come. "I wish I could smile more often for you", she sighed.

Her hand dropped then, to the regret of them both. He cast his eyes low and said, "Then this is farewell", taking a step back from her. "All I wanted to say, I have said. Boe annin mened… lest I yield to my yearning and never leave your side", he told her breathily.

Her eyelids fluttered. He had spoken sincerely to her, and she understood he had to do his duty, though his heart dictated elsewise. "Go then, if you must. But return to me, as you promised. I will look to that day and trust to hope."

"Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín", he told her, striving to keep his voice from breaking.

He gave her one last long glance, and then turned and hurried down the stairs, before his treacherous feet led him back to her arms. She watched his silver-blond head disappear, and after a moment heard the front doors closing. She rushed to the balcony and clung to its northern corner, and saw Thranduil mounting his elk. Beside him one of the guards that had accompanied them prepared his own steed as well. The King knowingly raised his eyes up to where she was standing, and a deep frown was upon his face. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and then he turned and rode off.

A sudden wave of loneliness and desertion flooded her heart, as deafening silence fell like a heavy mantle upon the place. She was still on the balcony, gazing forlornly into the distance, upon the trail Thranduil and his guard had ridden. Ever-green fir-trees swayed with the wind upon the slopes of the hills, but other than the rustling of boughs there was no other sound to be heard. Unwillingly, she detached herself from the railing and walked inside. Her eyes fell on the ancient tomes upon her bed. "Of Hidden Truths… It sounds as if a maester of Oldtown has written you", she murmured as she took the first volume in her hands and reverentially ran her fingers on the surface of its cover, examining it. The letters had been engraved in the hard cover, and traces of silver inlay were still visible. It looked valuable; Daenerys only hoped it would prove the same. "What secrets have you to reveal me, I wonder…" she mused, turning now the pages with great care. Thankfully, the ink was well-preserved. Her eyes skimmed through the lines, but she found she had no mind to read now. With a sigh, she set the book aside and slumped down on the bed. She noticed then that she was still in her riding attire, and it was dusty and uncomfortable. _I had better get my things up here and change clothes,_ she thought.

Daenerys spent all the hours until the afternoon arranging her belongings and setting the house to her liking and convenience. It was clean enough, but she mopped the floors and dusted the sills nonetheless. She fluffed every pillow on the sofa and on the bed, and made sure both hearths had enough firewood readily available to last the night. Afterwards she stepped out with two buckets and carried in fresh water from the well. She left them in the kitchen, and went on to inspect the sacks and the jars more closely. She discovered there were potatoes, onions and garlics as well, and she decided to make a stew with them later. Now that she had no servants, she would have to take care of everything on her own. At first the thought worried her, for never in her life had she preoccupied herself with the mundane chores of the house, but then she took to liking the idea, for all this housework would give her something to fill her many empty hours with. So, after the kitchen was clean and orderly, she began peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables, while hunger stirred in her stomach. As she put the pot to the fire a little later, Daenerys thought of her dragons. _They must be hungry too, my poor children._ A look around told her that there was no meat to be found. _They will have to hunt for themselves. These hills must be teeming with game, for sure._ As soon as she made sure the stew had started to boil, she hurried along the tunnel and to the dragons' cave. The three winged serpents cried when they saw their mother. "I know you have gone hungry, my sweetlings. You will have to hunt for your meal. But I am forbidden to let you out all three at once", she told them sorrowfully, and they watched her with their large, glowing eyes. "Drogon", she turned to the largest dragon. "You will fly out, and bring something back to share with your brothers. Do not be mean and eat it all by yourself, for next time they may do the same to you. And do not eat my horse! Alright?" The black dragon puffed a bit of smoke and craned his neck towards her. "I know you understand me. Come now", she prompted him, and unlocked the doors. The dragon crawled out eagerly, splaying his wings. "Take now to the sky, and come back soon." Drogon kicked with his legs and batted his wings, and at once he was up in the air, letting out a screech of joy, which caused the two guards to gaze at him in awe and fear. But Daenerys smiled brightly, as she watched him circle above her thrice before he disappeared behind the peak of the hill, and she cared not for the cold wind that tousled her hair. For a while she forgot herself, and a sense of utter freedom overwhelmed her. _Oh to, to soar high up in the sky, free and fearless! I wonder how the dragonriders of old felt, when they mounted their dragons and led them to battle, and when they breathed fire to their enemies below. Will you ever take me upon you back, Drogon? Will you burn my enemies, like Balerion charred Aegon's enemies to ashes?_ Her eyes watchedthe sun move lazily towards the west, painting the sky of late winter with all the hues of red. _To a bloodred horizon I will fly, one day, and all will bend the knee before the Mother of Dragons,_ she mused, and her thoughts filled with imaginings of her future as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

But then suddenly her stew returned to her mind, and all thoughts of greatness and glory were extinguished at once, as she rushed inside. Fortunately, it had been boiling smoothly, its texture already thickening. A smile crept upon her lips, as the smell of the soup made her mouth water _. I never thought I could find joy in such simple things,_ she thought. She only regretted she had no bread to accompany her fine stew with. But then she eyed the flour sack in the corner. _Perhaps I can make some bread tomorrow._ She glanced once more at the pot, and after making sure it was boiling nicely, she walked to the living room, thinking to start a fire. Kneeling in front of the fireplace, she placed some logs in it and found the kindling materials. Soon enough a beautiful red fire was burning bright, as the last light of the day faded and night was now falling.

Just as she thought to take some rest, a loud shriek from outside signaled Drogon's return. Daenerys hurried outside only to see him land with a fawn in his claws, barely smaller than him in size. "You are a strong one, are you not now, Drogon?" she praised him, and his nostrils flared, letting out puffs of smoke. "Now you and your brothers can feed." She took him to the cave, and at once the other two dragons cried impatiently. Drogon crawled in with his prey, and he dropped it to the ground. Immediately flames bathed the dead animal, and the three beasts dug their jaws in it. Daenerys left them to feed undisturbed and returned to the kitchen. The stew was now ready, and she served herself a portion in a large bowl. An elven horn was then heard, and she glanced out of the window. It was the change of the guard, she realized, as the two elves rode off and two newcomers resumed their posts outside her yard. _I had better get used to that,_ she thought with a sigh. Her attention returned to her dinner, and she carried her bowl with her to the living room and sank in the sofa. As she took the first spoonfuls she realized how tired she was. Savoring her stew – which admittedly needed a little bit more salt and pepper – she let the flames in the hearth lull her, and her thoughts drifted off.

Much had changed for her in a day's time. It was only yesterday when she had set out from Thranduil's Halls, and today she was to sleep in a different house, in a different bed. And she was all alone. But it did not feel as horrible as she had expected it to feel. Her day had been full, and quite rewarding at that. Even though she had been expelled from the King's Halls, she now had a home she could call her own. It was not luxurious, and she could ask for a hot bath to be prepared for her, but she decided that she liked it. It was warm and cozy, and in time she could make it look exactly as she wanted. She might add some flowers here and there, or a few more candles on the table…

And Thranduil had promised her he would visit her as often as he could. It was only a day's ride from his Halls; surely it would not take too long for him to come see her. Daenerys trusted him completely now. After he had opened her heart to her and revealed his terrible scars to her, she was assured that he trusted her unconditionally, and even her slightest doubts about him faded. But she did miss him. As she slowly climbed the stairs, heading to her bed, she could almost feel the traces of his presence. It was as if his bright aura had left its mark upon the place, making the air feel lighter and sweeter there. She sighed and smiled to herself. How did it happen that she fell for him? She had never intended that. All she wanted was to be treated civilly, and find a way out of this Middle-Earth. But the King of the Woodland Realm was not easily overlooked, and he had managed to strike an impression on her. An impression so vivid, that she came to care for him and desire him carnally. _If only we had not stopped last night…_ she wished with longing. _And if only he had lingered some more today, before he left…_ She started a fire in the fireplace and then crawled under the warm covers with thoughts of his kiss in her mind, as sleepiness descended upon her eyelids. _If only we had shared more than a kiss._

* * *

Translations

Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog = I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh (Sindarin)

Boe annin mened = I must go (Sindarin)

Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vín = Nothing will stop the weeping of my heart until our reunion (Sindarin)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The first bread Daenerys tried to bake was an utter catastrophe. The second nearly so. The third was barely edible, with blackened crust but traces of fluffiness inside. From then on her baking skills improved noticeably, and within a fortnight the bread she baked was crispy and soft and delicious.

These first days at her new home passed without her even noticing it, for she was much preoccupied with everyday chores, struggling to establish a daily schedule and trying to find time to do everything. But gradually it all fell into place. She knew now how long the bread took to bake, and when she should start the fire in the morning, or when to begin preparing her food. Now that she knew the house and its corners, it took her less time to clean it and tidy it up. Every few days she would wash her clothes, and she never forgot to feed her horse as well. The dragons she took out of their cave one at a time, and they would hunt for their own food.

She had gotten used to the guards as well, and their twice-a-day change of shift. Twelve elves had been tasked with watching over her, and by now she knew their names. They always came and went in the same pairs, rotating through their shifts. They would not bother her through the day; they would simply bind their horses to posts near the guardhouse and they would patrol the area around her silently. She tried a couple of times to start up conversation with them, but they had been curt and brief in their words, indicating they had been discouraged to familiarize with her. The female guards were a little kinder, but the male ones barely even spared her a glance, and all of them always gazed at her dragons taking flight with abhorrence. After sparing a few efforts, she abandoned trying to make friends of the guards and returned to her solitude.

So far, no unfortunate happenstance had befallen her. The spring had just set in, and the snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance began to glisten under sunlight. Soon the first bold saplings sprouted through stone and ice, announcing the changing of seasons. But the air coming down from the mountains was still cold, for winter would not easily withdraw its icy grasp of the land. Still, the longer days and the first greenery filled Daenerys' heart with hope.

One of these morns, while she was readying the fire in the hearth, she heard galloping hooves approaching. _Thranduil!_ Her heart sang, and she rushed to the door, eagerly peering into the distance. But it was not her King she saw. Two riders came trotting now into her yard, and they were female and clad in long, hooded cloaks. As soon as they dismounted and threw back their hoods, Daenerys immediately recognized them, and gingerly walked towards them.

"Luineth! Istuives! What a wonderful surprise!" she beamed, her smile bright as the sun.

The ellith smiled in return and opened their arms, inviting her into an embrace. "Daenerys, it so good to see you are faring well", Istuives said, her deep grey eyes examining the silver-haired girl's face closely.

"Mellon nín!" Luineth chimed. "Why, you look thinner to me!"

Daenerys laughed softly. "Perhaps the daily chores and my inexistent cooking skills are to blame. But come inside, I will make some tea for you."

She led them to the living room, and they sat upon the sofa, while the mother of dragons stepped into the kitchen and put the kettle to the fire. The elves glanced about her home, appreciating its cleanliness and orderliness. The fire was blazing in the hearth, and the room was warm and welcoming. Soon their hostess returned with cups of hot tea, slices of bread and butter, as well as a bowl of dried figs and plums.

"I wish I had more to offer you", she said as she placed everything on the table and took a seat in the armchair opposite them.

"It is a breakfast most delightful", Luineth said happily.

"We understand you live in no luxury here, so worry not yourself with such trivial issues. We elves care little for food, as long as we are in the company of a dear friend", Istuives said in her calm, wise voice.

"Thank you for your soothing words, Istuives. These first days of mine here have not been easy, and sometimes I seem to struggle with silly things. All my life I had been tended to by servants, and I know little of house chores, baking, cooking, cleaning… I am trying to figure it all out as it comes", Daenerys described, smiling weakly.

Luineth took a sip of the tea and plopped a plum in her mouth. "I would say you manage fine. Your house looks pristine, and this tea is wonderful."

Daenerys nodded. "I am glad you say so, and I am glad you came to visit me. Loneliness is a harsh companion, and I have missed you both so much. Often I reminisce about the time we spent together in the Elvenking's Halls. I miss our lessons especially, my lady Istuives. You taught me well. Had it not been for you, I would never be able to communicate with the elves", she spoke in gratitude.

"You have been a quick-learning pupil. Which reminds me", she said and retrieved a small parcel from her bag, "I brought these for you. I thought you might like to have something to read in the afternoon, to help the time pass."

She handed her two books, which were heavier than they seemed. Daenerys looked at the covers; one book contained poetry, while the other was a history of Oropher's House, narrated by Oropher himself. "Lord Oropher? Was he not our King's father?" she wondered.

"Indeed he was, and our King before him. I thought you might like to learn how our people came to be here, after lord Oropher led them from Doriath. I find his writing a little austere and military-like, but then so had always lord Oropher been. Still, the descriptions are vivid and up to point, and he provides a very detailed report of the events of those fateful days and the story of the royal family. He tries to be as objective as possible, too, which is admirable, and quite rare, when war is concerned", Istuives said. "And the other book will help you relax when you need it, with its poems and songs of our race", she added with a smile as an afterthought.

 _A book written by Thranduil's own father!_ Daenerys marveled _. Thranduil has avoided speaking to me of these bygone years of his youth. Perhaps now I can peek into his past, and know him better._ "You have my deepest thanks, my lady Istuives. This is a most wonderful gift!"

The grey-eyed elleth nodded with a soft smile. Then Luineth spoke up. "And I brought you this, Daenerys. Surely some more clothes would not be useless!"

She gave her a bag, and in it a velvet gown and an everyday cotton dress were neatly folded. Daenerys took them out and held them before her eyes. The dress was the color of peach, soft to the touch but sturdy enough. The gown was deep blue in color, adorned with silver thread along the neckline and the sleeves. Its skirt had flecks of silver embroidered into the fabric as well, so small and delicate that it made it look like the starlit night sky. "Oh, Luineth… I know not what to say. Thank you so much…" she whispered, deeply moved by her friends' care.

Luineth smiled. "Faelwen misses you, too. She wanted to send you a berry pie, but she feared it might grow stale over our journey here."

Daenerys smiled at the remembrance of the chief baker's exquisite pies. "I wish I could repay you your kindness."

Istuives lay a gentle hand on her arm. "One day you will, Daenerys. For a day may come – and sooner than we might think – when we will have need of your assistance. But this day is not today, and these gifts are not given to you with such anticipation. Take them, and whenever you read the books, or wear the dresses, remember your friends, for you are always in our fondest thoughts as well."

"You must know, Daenerys, we were not among those who wished you gone from our King's Halls", Luineth hastened to say.

"That is true. But it seems the council was adamant about it. Much as I tried to sway my brother's mind, he and his wife would not listen", Istuives added.

"Your brother?" Daenerys wondered, for she did not know her tutor had a brother in Thranduil's council.

"Orodlin and his wife Mídhiel are powerful councilors. Their opinions are often the collective opinion of the King's council, and he holds them in great esteem, for only seldom has their advice proved ill. But I do believe it is ill this time", she sighed, setting down her cup of tea.

Daenerys remembered her eavesdropping to Thranduil and his councilors discussing the issue of her presence, and she remembered those two elves' persistence that she should be exiled. Her face grew grim, and a frown descended upon her brow. "You are not responsible for your brother's thoughts", she told Istuives in a calm and collected manner. "I understand that the dragons are a terrible sight to most, even though they never harmed anyone, nor sought to."

"Dragons are servants of Morgoth in our world. Most of our people are unwilling to see beyond that, and they do not believe you come from a different world. They will hate your dragons even if they are innocent as lambs", Luineth told her.

"King Thranduil knew that, and that is why he gave his consent for your removal from his Halls", Istuives said. "But it was plain to see that he did it unwillingly. And he did not call for a council assemblage for days after the decision was made. I suspect he loathed to see my brother gloat over his victory", she commented with a bitter smile. "Orodlin is intelligent and sharp-witted, but he tends to be narrow-minded sometimes."

"If they had come to know you as we and the King did, the councilors would not be so swift to expel you", the blue-eyed elleth said wistfully.

"Would that they had. But most did not even wish to consider the notion", Istuives remarked.

"What is done now is done. I bear them no grudge", Daenerys said, gesturing in a dismissive manner. "But the King wants my allegiance in the war he says is to come, thinking that my dragons, once grown, might prove key to prevailing over the enemies. And I have pledged my allegiance to him, and I intend to keep my vow", she spoke in a resolved tone.

"Where are the dragons now?" Luineth wondered.

"In their cave, resting or playing with each other. Later in the day I will release one of them to fly and hunt. It is Rhaegal's turn today. And they have grown the size of a horse now. Would you like to see them?" Daenerys offered.

The elves looked at each other. They had not seen the dragons before, and some measure of apprehension crawled into their hearts. "Will it not be dangerous?" Istuives asked.

"Not when I am present", Daenerys replied.

Luineth then stood from her seat. "Take us to see them, then. I trust you."

Istuives slowly rose beside her. "I trust you as well."

Daenerys smiled brightly at them. "Come. I promise you the sight is unlike anything you have ever seen before."

She led the ellith through the tunnel and unlocked the door. The cavern was dark as they emerged into it, but no darkness could hide the three dragons from the elves' keen eyes.

"They are… huge!" Luineth exclaimed, standing still as a statue now.

Her voice prompted the dragons to turn their heads, and Drogon hissed menacingly, extending his neck towards the intruders. As soon as he bared his fangs, Istuives gripped Daenerys' arm in fear. "They do not look so friendly to me…" she muttered.

But Daenerys walked forth with a smile. "Drogon!" She called to the black dragon. "These are my friends. Do not frighten them", she spoke to him in a language the elves could not understand.

Drogon lowered his head and looked at the two ellith curiously. A bit of smoke came out of his nostrils as he snorted, and they stepped backwards in fear. But then he turned and crawled away disinterested. His brothers shrieked at him, and Viserion flapped his wings, which gleamed almost golden under the torchlight.

"They are… breathtaking", Luineth whispered, marveling at the pale dragon. "And so big!"

Daenerys laughed softly. "They are still children. Once grown, not even one of them will fit properly in this cave."

The elves looked around them, trying to imagine the size an adult dragon was. "They say Ancalagon the Black crushed the mighty towers of Thangorodrim with his fall. He was the mightiest and greatest dragon that has ever lived. Could these dragonlings here truly grow so large?" Istuives wondered, gazing at the dragons clawing at each other for sport.

"Smaug, the last dragon of Middle-Earth, was great of size, but nowhere near as large as Ancalagon was. He flew down from the north and took Erebor from the dwarves. There he resided in a cave, guarding his treasure, until Bard the Bowman slew him. Perhaps these dragons will grow to be like Smaug in size", Luineth said.

Daenerys listened to them, remembering the stories she had read in the library. "My dragons are different. As long as they feed and are free, they will grow." She walked up to Rhaegal and touched his neck. "Rhaegal, my child. Will you hunt for yourself and your brothers today?" she asked him in a low tone. The green dragon splayed his wings, and their underside glistened like bronze. "Good, good. I will release you now", she said, and went and unlocked the iron doors of the cave. The elves watched as the dragon crawled outside, and saw him taking to flight. It was a sight they would not easily forget.

Daenerys turned to her friends. "They are lighter than they seem, but for their size. All neck and tail and wings…" she said, gazing at the remaining two dragons with pride in her violet eyes.

"They are magnificent", Istuives acknowledged. "And they did not harm us. I will report that to my brother, once I am back in the Halls."

Daenerys shook her silver head. "Life here fits them better than life in the Elvenking's Halls. There they were confined, restless and angry all the time. Here, I can release them as often as I wish."

"But for you life here is much harder, Daenerys", Luineth told her kindly, touching her shoulder. "And we miss you."

 _And I miss you too. All of you,_ Daenerys wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut. She had to be strong. She should not allow sentiments to get the best of her now, much as she missed Thranduil. "A decision has been made, and I respect it", she only said.

"You are a proud woman, Daenerys", Istuives noted.

"I am the blood of the dragon, and of the line of Kings. Kings and dragons do not beg", she responded in a strong voice.

The tutor nodded, and then all three of them walked out of the dragons' cave and into the yard.

Daenerys invited the elves to spend the night there, and they gladly accepted, not wishing to ride home at night. Come the morning, they thanked her for the hospitality and the food she had offered them. Then they said their farewells and rode off.

Daenerys was once again left alone. Her friends' visit had been a nice intermission to her loneliness, but now it was over. With a sigh she returned to her room and glanced at Thranduil's books on the desk. She had already read half of the first tome, and, although it had been interesting, she had come across no useful information as of yet. _What if I never find what I seek? What if I am fated to live in this world forever?_ She thought with dismay. Her eyes then fell to the book Istuives had gifted her, the one written by Oropher. She walked to the desk and took it in her hands. Its cover was dark green and the letters golden, and it looked well-preserved. "The House of Oropher…" she read aloud the title. She then flipped it open and skimmed through the pages. The former King's hand was elegant, yet austere. _Thranduil has spoken to me little of his father,_ she pondered. _Let us see what this book has to reveal._

With curiosity ignited in her mind, she took the book with her as she crept under the covers of her bed, and began reading under the ample sunlight that came through the balcony.

" _Doriath, the greatest realm of the Sindar, was a realm of forests about the river Sirion",_ the book began. Daenerys kept reading. _"… and Elu Thingol was the King of Doriath since its establishment and until his death. He was born in Cuiviénen during the Years of the Trees, and was then known as Elwë, the eldest of three brothers. His brothers were Olwë and Elmo, and he was also a good friend of Finwë, who was King of the Noldor. At that time there was friendship between the elven kindreds of the Noldor and the Sindar. The wife of Elu Thingol was Melian the Maia, and she was the one that placed the Girdle around Doriath, so that no one would enter without the King's leave. Of Thingol and Melian a daughter was born, and she was Lúthien Tinúviel, the fairest of the children of Ilúvatar."_

"… _I knew Thingol since the day he founded Doriath. Through the woods he emerged with his bride, and he was much changed, fairer and taller even than he was before. And it is true that Thingol was the tallest of all elves and men. His hair was had once been grey, but after he came with Melian it was purely silver, and starlight shone in his eyes. He was revered by all elves and hailed as the lord of Beleriand."_

Daenerys lifted her eyes from the book. _Thranduil does not seem very much unlike this King Elu Thingol,_ she pondered. _Perhaps he admired him._ She resumed reading.

"… _when the light of the Two Trees still shone, Thingol, following his wife's advice, befriended the dwarves of Belegost. This friendship proved fruitful, for the dwarves helped the King build his great cavernous Hall, Menegroth. Menegroth was truly an underground fortress, and became the abode of Thingol and Melian. The river Esgalduin partially circled the hill in which Menegroth was carved, turning west at that point. The only entrance of the great Hall were gates high above the river, which at this place ran in a deep ravine, and a stone bridge spanned the distance between its banks. This stone palace became known as Menegroth, the Thousand Caves, because so many were the halls the dwarves had hewn out of the rock."_

 _Not unlike Thranduil's own Halls,_ Daenerys thought, certain now that Thranduil had been a fond admirer of Thingol and his ways. The next pages Oropher had dedicated to the description of Thingol's court, and wrote of people as he had known them, but who were only names on a page to Daenerys. Reading through, she was eager to find passages that were related to Thranduil.

"… _and I was granted a position in the King's council. By then I had made my intentions known to the parents of Inweth, and we were wed two years later. In the year 20 of the First Age, soon after Mereth Aderthad, we birthed a son. We named him Thranduil, for his laughter was as the waters of a vigorous spring."_ Daenerys could not but smile at this comment _. A vigorous spring, so sweet and yet so vibrant a name,_ she thought. But then her gaze grew sad, for only rarely did she remember the Elvenking laugh. _His years and his sorrows weigh now heavy upon his shoulders._

"… _Thranduil insisted that he join the military, although his mother wished for him to become a minstrel. She loved peace, and cherished peaceful occupations above all. And she also liked the maiden Ningannel, who played the harp and sang and was a dear friend of our son's, and she indeed hoped that one day they might marry. But Thranduil wished not to take Ningannel to wife, and neither was he a lover of the harp; he would rather wield his sword. I did not object when he announced to me that he would join King Thingol's army…"_

Daenerys had no doubt that Thranduil was not made for the song and harp. She could not imagine him sitting idly and playing songs. He was a warrior-king, and although he misliked conquering other lands, he was known to be a master strategist amongst his people. She had not seen him fight with a blade, but she was sure his skill would be superb.

And more she read of Oropher's book, and of his descriptions of events minor and major during his time in Doriath, and the hours flowed by like a running river. But when the light that came through the balcony turned warmer and dimmer, she realized that is was late afternoon, and she suddenly remembered her dragons. She sat up with a startle and thought, _oh no! I have forgotten to go to them and let them hunt! And it is Drogo's turn today. He will be angry, my poor child._ At once she jumped from the bed and rushed to the cave. The dragons shrieked and flapped their wings irritably when they saw her. "Forgive me, my sweetlings. But here I am now. Drogon! Come!" she called to the black dragon, and went and unlocked the door. He crawled impatiently outside, nearly knocking her down as he took to flight. _He has grown audacious,_ Daenerys thought. _But at least he is free to roam the woods now, and he will be pacified._

Her own stomach groaned then, and she remembered she had nothing to eat all day long, save for the breakfast she had shared with the ellith before they left. She walked to the kitchen and found some stale bread and butter. Being left with little choice, she cut two slices and took her meagre meal with her upstairs to her bedroom. There Oropher's book still awaited her. But the light had waned now, and she went to the desk and lit a couple of candles. There she sat, and read as she ate her food.

"… _but my son had managed to become a favorite of King Thingol's. He had proved his valor countless times against the giant spiders of Ered Gorgoroth, always eager to lead campaigns. For oft would those hideous creatures, the spawn of Ungoliant, come down from the sheer precipices of the mountains and harass our northern borders… And all the springs were poisoned, and many a wanderer had lost their lives to the poisoned waters of the Gorgoroth…"_

 _Spiders! Do not spiders infest this forest too?_ Daenerys remembered Thranduil talking to her about the evil creatures that lurked in the shadows, and she felt lucky she had not met any of them so far _. Perhaps they have not discovered my home,_ she thought. _Or perhaps the elven magic of old still lingers here, as it was an old elven abode…_

"… _time passed slowly by in Doriath, and we enjoyed peace and prosperity under Elu Thingol's rule for a long time. It is true that we were mostly separated from the outside world, protected by the Girdle of Melian as we were, and our King kept relations only with a selected few. He disliked the race of men, but with the dwarves of Nogrod he was friendly, until the events of the Nauglamír…"_

"… _and so the dwarves slew Thingol over the great prize that was Nauglamír, for neither would he pay them what they asked, and neither would they yield the necklace with the Silmaril set upon it. After Thingol's death his wife Melian abandoned Doriath, and the Girdle was lifted. She left Beleriand for Valinor, aggrieved by her beloved husband's passing. The dwarves of Nogrod sacked the city, and darkness fell upon fair Doriath…"_

"… _as Melian had foreshadowed. Undefended without the enchantment around it, Doriath was vulnerable to attack. And so came the sons of Fëanor with the Ñoldor, and slew King Dior Eluchîl when he refused to surrender the Silmaril. I remember the Second Kinslaying as the most horrible time of my life, for elf fought against elf, and we slaughtered each other upon the white marbles of Menegroth, instead of uniting against Morgoth, the common foe… The greatest evil it was, the kinslaying, and thereafter I cursed the Ñoldor, and never again wished I to know of them and their doings…"_

 _But did Thranduil's wife not have some Ñoldorin blood, as I recall?_ Daenerys wondered. _I can only imagine lord Oropher's objection, when his son brought his bride before him,_ she thought with a small smile.

"… _we fled to Lindon. But then happened the events of the War of Wrath, for Eärendil the Mariner had voyaged to Valinor and begged the Valar for aid. There came the Host of Valinor, along with the Vanyar and Ñoldor, but most of our people did not join with them, for we were still embittered by the gruesome kinslayings. Finarfin led the_ _Ñoldor, and Ingw_ _ë_ _himself led the Vanyar. But a few of the Sindar liked Finarfin and remembered his kinship with Thingol through his marriage to Eärwen, who was Thingol's niece. And Finarfin had no part in the kinslayings, and ever remained in Aman, save for his march in the War of Wrath. Among those Sindar that chose to follow Finarfin against Morgoth was my son…"_

 _Thranduil fought in the War of Wrath, so many ages ago,_ Daenerys marveled. Hastily she lit another candle, for the burning ones had almost reached the surface of the desk, and she resumed reading.

"… _when they brought me my son, he was beyond recognition. Terrible fire-wounds bore he, and they covered half his body. His face was ruined, his left eye blinded, the flesh on his arm and leg nearly melted away. There are no words in the tongues of elves or men to describe the pain and horror that overwhelmed us, his mother and me, when we saw our son so close to death, breathless and destroyed. I cursed Morgoth and his spawn then, for it was his fire-breathing dragons, who had brought such disaster upon us. For countless nights our young Thranduil lay abed, and he would not wake, or speak, but neither slept he, for fever shook him and terrible nightmares haunted him. Healers came and went, and Inweth never left his side, praying to the Valar that one day our only son would wake. For neither of us was ready to pay a price so high for Morgoth's fall…"_

"… _and for all the years that followed Thranduil would be forever changed. Gone was his mirth and laughter, and he suddenly grew old and weary in heart. No consolation would he find in things that used to bring him joy before. And though his mother had taught him how to cover his deformities with magic, I knew that he always perceived himself as unsightly and horrid to look upon. He withdrew from social life, and devoted his long hours to perfecting his skill with the sword… He took up twin swords, and trained his senses to make up for his lost eye and his blind left side. Before dawn he would wake and begin to train, and only after dark would he return home to us, grim and unsmiling. And so his life went on in gloom and misery and military discipline, until one morn he happened upon the maiden Gilwen, who was a Sinda of Lindon, but had also some Ñoldorin blood. At first I was wrathful to know of her heritage, and the sight of her golden hair vexed me, but as I saw my son content and smiling again my ire faded, and I forgave her for the wrongdoings of her ancestors. For Thranduil had after long and through mustering all his courage at last revealed to her his injuries, for he believed he should not fool her, if she was truly meant to be his One. And Gilwen did not falter, nor did she look away, as our son told us. She raised her palm to his cheek and told him that she loved him still, and always would. And then Thranduil asked her to marry him, and she accepted. I would never refuse my only son his happiness, though it was meant to be with someone who hailed from the Ñoldor…"_

A tear rolled down Daenerys' cheek. She closed the book and set it aside, and went to look out from her balcony. _Such a heartbreaking story he has. To be wounded so horribly at such a young age… and to live endless years in self-loathing. Because this is what it was. He hated himself for being disfigured, and thought perhaps that he deserved not to be loved by someone as fair as Gilwen. And yet the great love he bore her urged him to trust her and open his heart to her._

Her mind traveled then to their exchange in the tent, all those days ago. _He chose to open his heart to me as well. He trusts me. He yearns for me._ A distant star flickered and fell high up in the sky, leaving a silver trail of stardust behind it. _He loves me._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Mornings dawned and nights fell, seamless in their succession, and Daenerys' life in exile continued as it were, barely straying from the routine. She would rise early, prepare food, tend to the chores and the yard, then release a dragon to hunt, and by dusk she would retreat to her bedroom to read. Having finished lord Oropher's book, she now went back to the ancient tomes Thranduil had given her. But much she read, and yet nothing pertaining to an exit from this world did she find.

And her dragons had grown more. Now they were larger than oxen, and their tails had grown long and their wings thicker and wider. Their teeth were strong and sharp as steel, and their horns as well as the crest on their back had become so hard that they seemed impossible to break. The scales that covered their bodies still glistened with their unique colors, but now they were a true armor, impenetrable by common arrows. And they had grown fiercer and bolder still. They would fight each other for the game they hunted, and their jaws would be bloody and gory afterwards. And if Daenerys ever dared interrupt them while they fed, they would turn to her with angry hisses, warning her to stay away. Sometimes, when they quarreled with each other in the cavern and shrieked, their roars would shake the rocky walls. The power of her growing dragons always made Daenerys shiver in delight and pride, but she could not deny that they brought her now a measure of apprehension at times, for she worried that there might come a day when they would not listen to her, even though she was their mother.

But outside the dragons' cave the world welcomed spring. The trees grew green with new leaf, and birds sung on their branches from dawn till dusk. Flowers blossomed, and the air filled with intoxicating scents. Life awoke everywhere, and even the shadow that was upon the woods could not hinder it; it only served to dim its glory, and Daenerys wondered how much brighter Eryn Galen must have looked in its earlier days, when it was free of stain and evil.

One of these days, and as she was washing her clothes, she heard galloping approaching from afar. And it was a sound unexpected, for no visitor had she received after Luineth and Istuives had been to see her more than a month ago. Curious, she abandoned the trough and walked outside. And there she saw her guards emerging from the guardhouse and lifting their arms in greeting, as the Elvenking, sat upon his majestic elk, trotted into the yard. Her breath was caught in her throat then, as she beheld him proud and straight upon his mount, wearing his crown of green leaves and white flowers and his long white cloak flowing from his shoulders and dancing like a silken wave with the pace of his elk.

Thranduil greeted his subjects with a nod and a measured smile, and then his eyes fell to Daenerys, who was standing midway upon the path before her door. She looked disheveled, and her simple brownish gown was stained with water and slightly rumpled. Her hair was done in a hasty braid, but unruly locks escaped here and there, and her face bore a look of surprise and stupefaction. She was the loveliest sight he had beheld in days.

Gracefully he dismounted, and trusted the reins of his elk to the guards, who led it to the lone oak tree of the yard and tethered it alongside Daenerys' horse. Then he thanked them and dismissed them, saying he had no need of their services, and that they should resume their patrols. As the elves departed, he unhurriedly walked up to Daenerys, who was still like a statue and gazing at him with wonder in her eyes.

"Gi suilon, Daenerys. Ci maer?" he began casually.

She suddenly remembered to bow before him. "I am well, my lord. And you?"

He took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet. She raised her eyes to look into his then, and he smiled. "Now I am better."

She returned his smile, but concern lined her features. "Were you unwell?"

He glanced around with narrowed eyes and said, "Best if we do not speak of such matters here. I know not who might be listening."

"Oh, yes, of course", she stammered. "Come inside, then."

She pushed the door open and showed him into the living room. Thranduil saw how she had turned the once abandoned elven abode into a comfortable and warm human home. There were pots with flowers on the window sills, the tables were clean and neat, and the furniture tidy.

"How has been life for you here?" he asked her.

She took a breath and shrugged. "Tolerable, I suppose. Sometimes I feel hopeful, though other times melancholy takes me", she admitted.

His face saddened. "I wish it did not have to be so."

"One cannot have it all." But then she shook the sorrow from her expression and gestured towards the sofa. "But come now, my King, take a seat. And I will prepare some tea and biscuits. I have little to offer, however, I must warn you", she added with a playful tone.

"I do not mind", he told her softly, as he took his seat.

Soon enough she returned and sat beside him. He picked up a biscuit and bit on it. "This is good", he praised her.

"It is naught but flour and oats, and some honey", she explained timidly, watching him as he ate the rest of it.

"Do you have need for anything?"

She stood thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps some more oats and flour?"

He nodded. "They will be brought to you."

They fell silent afterwards, with her sipping some tea and him munching on another biscuit, until Daenerys felt uneasiness creep between them and expand like a plume of choking smoke. Clearly the time they had spent apart had had its effect on their level of comfort with each other. Wishing to break this silence before it became unbearable, she spoke. "I am grateful for your visit, my lord, but, may I ask, what brings you here?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Why would you need to ask me that? Had I not promised you that I would come to you?"

Her lips parted, and she cast her eyes low. "Yes, but… I did not think…"

"You did not think I would keep my promise?" He sounded almost hurt.

"I thought you might forget me", she replied, bringing her eyes back to his.

"Forget you? Never…" His hand went to her cheek, and his thumb traced her cheekbone lightly. She trembled, and a myriad of emotions flooded her heart, for she had dearly missed him, and now she realized it, and it was all coming back at once. "But dire matters kept me confined at my Halls", he said, his countenance turning grimmer now, and his hand dropped.

"What happened?"

"I had a visit of Mithrandir, the grey wizard, and Aragorn of the Dúnedain. They brought to me the most peculiar creature, a wretched thing, deformed and twisted and ugly… Gollum it is called, and they asked me to keep him in my dungeons and watch over him. The creature had been captured by Sauron and was tortured and interrogated in Mordor, and it appears he has given away valuable information with regards to the search of the One Ring and its whereabouts." His face grew graver still. "Alas, Daenerys, I am now certain we have come to the beginning of the end. For before long Sauron will find the ring and claim it, and then doom shall fall upon Middle-Earth…"

Daenerys had no idea what this creature Gollum was, but the tidings of war the Elvenking had spoken of was dire news enough. "Even now the Dark Lord searches for the ring, restless in his efforts… The paths of the world have become darker and peril lurks in every corner. Dol Guldur stirs again, and my scouts tell me the Nazgûl are amassing forces of evil, orcs and spiders and wargs and all sorts of foul creatures. How long before they unleash an attack against us?"

Her heart went out for his plight, for he looked distressed, and a new burden was laden upon his shoulders. Her hand found his then, and her touch was warm and comforting. "We must not lose hope. You have told me of the coming war since the first days I was in your Halls, and the time is approaching. We must not lose heart, but be ready for what is to come."

"We?"

She nodded in affirmative. "We. Have I not pledged you my help?"

A loud roar was heard then, and the walls of the house shook. Thranduil looked around in alarm, but Daenerys only smiled. "Drogon. He is a furious child."

"The dragons… they have grown."

"They have."

He gave her then a look full of resolve. "I wish to see them."

Her brow furrowed a little. "They are wild", she warned him.

"They would not seek to harm me, when I am with you", he said with certainty.

 _I hope so,_ Daenerys thought. "You should be quite safe, peeking at them through the tunnel door…"

He rose. "Take me to them, Daenerys."

Seeing that he was determined, she yielded. "Very well."

They walked through the narrow tunnel and she unlocked the door. "They have not fed yet today", she told him. Then carefully she entered the cave, and Thranduil was behind her. "Drogon?" she called.

There was silence at first, but then a large black head emerged from the shadows, hissing at them with open jaws. The Elvenking gasped and stepped backwards, but Daenerys gripped his arm, halting his retreat. "Drogon! He is my friend!"

The dragon hissed again, and his throat took to glow like an ember with fire, one breath from releasing it. Cold sweat broke upon Thranduil's brow, as memories from ages past came alive in his mind. _Ancalagon's lieutenants flew down from above and rained fiery rain upon the Host of Valinor, forcing them back from the gates of Angband…_ He tried to steady himself, taking courage from Daenerys' firm grasp of his arm.

"Drogon! You will not breathe fire upon him!" she shouted, her tone imperative now.

The black serpent flapped his wings, causing their hair and cloaks to billow. But then Rhaegal jumped against his brother with claw and tooth and shoved him aside. He interposed himself between the pair and Drogon and screeched angrily at him.

"He is protecting you! Rhaegal, he remembers you", Daenerys whispered to Thranduil. "Be not afraid", she said, and let go of him, as she stepped forth.

Drogon snarled at his brother, but did not attack him. "My children! There is no need for you to fight. Listen to me!" she cried, and both dragons turned their heads towards her, regarding her with their large glowing eyes. "Thranduil is my friend. He is no enemy. You will not harm him!"

Drogon snorted a puff of black smoke through his nostrils and lowered his head in submission. Rhaegal extended his shiny wings, shielding Thranduil behind them. Daenerys went and touched the black dragon's nose, and he closed his eyes, now pacified. Rhaegal then turned and looked at Thranduil, and he made to reach for him with his head. But Thranduil was still shaken from his memories, and he retreated a few steps in fear, heart beating fast in his chest. The dragon growled low in his throat, as if in question of the elf's odd behavior. Daenerys noticed the exchange, and left Drogon. She came and stroked the green dragon between the eyes, and he blinked. "Do not fear him", she murmured in a gentle tone. "He wants you to touch him."

But the Elvenking would not move from his place against the wall, and he looked pale like a ghost. When Daenerys looked at him, the smile fell from her face. "Thranduil? You are unwell."

He found his voice. "I fear that my idea to see the dragons was a terrible one. They have grown… fearsome."

She saw agitation written all over his face, and touched his arm once more. "Come. We should return to the house."

When Thranduil was back in the living room, he could at last breathe again. He sank in the sofa, and she sat by his side. "I am sorry. I know not what came upon me", he muttered weakly.

"Thranduil…" she murmured his name tenderly. "I know of your story, and your scars… You have shown me, remember? No need to apologize."

"Yes…"

She was so close to him then, and looking deeply into his eyes. "The past… it will never leave me", he whispered.

"It never does. But we must learn to live with it. And you have lived thousands of years… Is the memory still so vivid?" she wondered.

"Elven memory does not fade. For us, it all is still too near. We feel everything too deeply", he replied.

"Everything?" she asked him, her heart taking up now a faster rhythm, as his proximity set her senses ablaze.

He gazed at her. Her eyes were glimmering, her lips plump and eager… "Everything."

Daenerys glanced at his mouth, corners turned downwards in a perpetual pout, accentuating his grave expression. _How grim and grave he always looks,_ she pondered. _I wonder how he was in his youth, when he used to laugh, as his father writes in the book… Life has been harsh on him, and he is doomed to bear his wounds forever._

Her fingertips dared touch his chin then, as she leaned against him. "I have not forgotten. The memory of it returns to me every night", she told him under her breath, and her thumb boldly traced his lower lip.

He gasped and shivered, feeling his body coming alive against hers. His hand went to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her loose braid. "Daenerys…"

"You have not forgotten either."

"How could I? I bared my body and my soul to you… and you accepted me wholeheartedly", he said, cradling her head.

A single tear fell from her eye, and her heart was overwhelmed with emotion. "Of course I did. Did you ever doubt it?"

Instead of replying verbally, he closed the small distance between them and sealed her lips with his. The kiss started off as chaste, but quickly she gave in to her desire, and opened her mouth for him. The invasion she suffered was sweet, as his tongue battled hers for dominion. His arm then wound about her back and pulled her closer to him, and she pushed him against the back of the sofa and leaned against his chest. Her hand crept from his shoulder to his throat, deftly unclasping the broach that held his cloak fastened, and then slid beneath his collar, her touch setting fire to his cool skin.

But then he broke the kiss and held her by the shoulders. "Daenerys, no… No, this is folly", he said and shook his head, still breathless and flushed. "You have said it: there is no path on which we might walk together. Our feelings will only bring us pain, if we give in to them."

She regarded him for a moment, and then her passion died down, and she pulled away from his arms. She stood up, turning her back to him, for she did not wish for him to see her tears of hurt and disappointment. "Why did you come to my house then?" she asked him in a broken voice. "Why must you come here and upset my life? You know how I feel! Why must you torment me, if you have no intention of reciprocating my feelings?" she flung the final words at him, turning to him with a look of anger and pain, while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her reaction shattered him. "Daenerys… It was never my intention to hurt you. All I said, I said for your own good. There is no future for us… One day you will return to your world, and I will linger here…" he sighed.

She shook her head. "I doubt that will ever be possible."

He stepped close to her. "Even so, which I would never wish for you, I am an elf, and you are mortal. Your life will pass like a breath of air, and-"

"And you want to spare yourself the pain of losing another love, not to war and death but to the slow decay of time?" She was not sure if she was hurt or angry anymore, or just disappointed.

He hung his head. "Yes. Perhaps I am selfish, but I will not spend an eternity mourning a second loss", he told her.

"And you would rather deny yourself the joy of the present?" Another teared rolled down.

"There is no other way…"

"Then why did you come to my house?" she repeated the question more aggressively this time. "Answer me!" The dragon was awoken in her, and it demanded answers.

His gaze flickered. "I wished to see you. I wished to know you are well."

"Well, as you see I am perfectly fine!" she shouted at him bitterly.

"Daenerys…" How did it come to that? How did he let this escalate so horribly? "You are not fine. You are lonely, and feel abandoned and hopeless. And I must seem a monster to you, for now you feel betrayed by me. But what I feel…" he took a shaky breath. She looked at him with a frown. "What I feel for you is so deep and real that I fear it will consume me if I allow it to grow unhindered, and I will never let you return to your world, but keep you here for myself, though short the time might be. I wish to protect you from myself… But it is a struggle to try and keep away from you, and I must fight with every fiber of my being not to take you in my arms and make you mine forever", he finally confessed.

She gasped, and was about to say something, when they heard frantic knocks on the door. "My King! Daenerys! We are under attack! Orcs!"

Thranduil and Daenerys exchanged a look of alarm. "Stay here", the King said, and drew his sword. Then he flung the door open and marched into the yard.

Daenerys ran to the window, and saw Thranduil rushing to join the two guards to the front of the yard, who were already fighting the orcs. They were many, a large raiding band of fifty orcs or so, and they were armed with swords and scythes, axes and clubs and other weapons of crude orc-make. The three elves stood their ground and felled orc after orc, but soon they were surrounded, and fought back to back. One of the guards received a deep cut across the chest then, and fell to his knees. Thranduil and the other elf strove to keep up the fight and protect the fallen one, but the struggle became harder by the minute.

 _I cannot remain idle here. I must help them, or else they will die._

Knowing at once what she had to do, Daenerys hurried to the tunnel and to the dragons' cave. Unlocking the great iron doors that barred the cave from the outside world, she called to the black dragon. "Drogon! Fly!"

He crawled out of the cavern, and took to flight. Daenerys rushed out and circled the rock, and the scene of the skirmish came into view. The other guard was now down as well, and Thranduil was on his own, fighting the remaining twenty orcs. The ground about him was strewn with the corpses of the foes. The clash of steel against steel filled the air and mingled with the grunts and growls of the orcs and the gasps of the ailing elves. The King wielded now both his swords and swirled like a maelstrom amongst the foul creatures, but they kept coming at him from all sides, and he received many cuts and gashes as he fought.

 _He will not last for long,_ Daenerys thought in dismay. She then turned her eyes to the dragon, who flew above the crag now. _I hope he will obey my command._ She took some brave steps forward then, approaching Thranduil and the orcs. "Thranduil!" she screamed his name, and his eyes darted to her for an instant. "Move away! Now!"

He felled an orc, and she managed to see the questioning look in his eyes through the flurry of blows. But then he noticed the black dragon flying, and he understood what she meant. Deftly he ducked and avoided a blow, and then jumped and rolled on the ground, away from the orcs.

Daenerys then knew this was her chance. She turned her eyes to the sky, where the dragon flew. "Drogon! Dracarys!"

The black dragon halted and levitated in mid-air, balancing his weight by batting his wings. And then his jaws parted and he roared, and a stream of fire poured forth from his throat. A few orcs were instantly lit like torches, and the others scattered away from the flames. Drogon then landed, and tore an orc's head from his body with one vicious bite of his sharp teeth. Other orcs threw spears and axes at him, but were unable to cause him any real damage. Angered, the dragon spat fire against them, and soon enough all orcs were turned to ash and bones.

Daenerys then walked to him and touched his neck. "Thank you, Drogon", she whispered to him, her voice an exhalation of relief, and he rewarded her with a prideful roar, before flying off once more. In the distance, Thranduil had been watching the scene in awe and amazement, and now he rose to his feet and sheathed his bloodied swords. Daenerys approached him. "Are you hurt?" she asked with concern, seeing his cuts and bruises.

"I will be fine. But the guards are in a worse condition", he replied, and moved towards Amdiron, who had been badly wounded. There was a deep gash across his chest, and blood soaked his armor and garments. The King knelt and placed a hand above the wound. "Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin 'raw hen", he whispered, and repeated the words numerous times, until the elf's breath eased and became deeper and rhythmic. By then the other guard stumbled closer. He was injured in the leg, but his life was not in danger.

"What are we going to do? You need a healer, all of you", Daenerys said.

"You saved us, my lady", the guard with the leg wound said.

"That is true. Daenerys, we are alive thanks to you", Thranduil acknowledged, and gazed intensely at her.

"No, not me. It was Drogon who saved you", she said.

The Elvenking smiled at her, but pain caused him to wince. "Had it not been for you…" he rasped.

She looked at him with worry. "Thranduil, you must come inside. You have to lie down."

He did not protest any further, but only said, "Amdiron and Bregedir need assistance."

"I am alright, my King. It is only my leg that is hurt. I will help you carry Amdiron inside", Bregedir said.

And so the three of them lifted Amdiron and brought him into the house. They laid him upon the sofa, and Daenerys brought pillows and blankets for him. Bregedir sank in the armchair, and took to inspecting the wound on his calf. Thranduil repeated the healing spell for Amdiron, while Daenerys cleaned his wound, until he became calm and at last fell into a peaceful sleep.

"What of the orcish corpses outside?" Bregedir wondered.

"I will see that they are burned, should any remain that Drogon has not already charred to dust", Daenerys replied.

"The palace must be notified", the Elvenking said, pacing around nervously. "I will ride back."

"No!" Daenerys objected. "You are in no condition to ride a whole day back to the Halls. And we do not know if more orcs lurk in the premises. I suspect they had been watching me for some time, and decided to come and pillage the house today. We are safer inside, and with the dragons close to us", she said.

"But I am no healer. Amdiron needs urgent attention", Thranduil said, clasping now his side.

"It will soon be dusk. The next pair of guards will come, and they can take Amdiron back to the Halls. It is the safest route to follow", Daenerys insisted. "Meanwhile, why do you not all rest and wash your wounds, while I prepare some soup?"

Without waiting for a reply, she vanished into the kitchen.

* * *

It was all done as she had said. The night shift came, and the King ordered them to return to the palace at once, and take Amdiron to the healers. He and Bregedir would stay behind until they were fit to ride unaided. After they had cleaned themselves and filled their bellies with food, the guard occupied the sofa, while Daenerys insisted that Thranduil take her bed and rest.

"No", he refused, but she shook her head.

"I will hear no objections. You are wounded, and need to lie down. There is no other place available but the bed."

She sounded resolved, and grasped Thranduil's forearm, prompting him to climb the staircase to her bedroom. He gasped as he walked up the stairs, for his wound persistently kept shooting pain across his right side. Daenerys watched him with dire suspicion. "How badly are you wounded?"

Another gasp came instead of an answer, and she had to help him to the bed. As soon as he lay down, she unbuckled his belt and lifted his tunic. What she saw made her brow crease in worry. There was a large bruise covering his lower ribs, indicating there might be some internal bleeding. "An orc came at me with a club", he said hoarsely.

"Thranduil…" she muttered. "You said nothing about the injury and exerted yourself; you should not have done that."

He looked away, not knowing what to tell her. While he fought, he cared little of himself. All he was thinking of was to protect his people, and her. And afterwards, he did not wish to look weak in her eyes. For she had already seen too much weakness in him.

"Thranduil…" she murmured again, tenderly this time, and touched his hair. He turned to face her. "You need to prove nothing to me. You are strong; do you think I do not know that? You have survived things that would have claimed the life of lesser people. But you are foolish", she scolded him. "Brave and foolish as a boy."

He felt his defenses abandoning him then, and he felt helpless and afraid. "So much has been taken from me. I cannot lose you, too", he whispered brokenly, while a tear ran down his good eye. The other one was unable to cry tears since long now.

"Hush, what are you saying now? I am not going anywhere", she reassured him, caressing his tousled silver strands.

"One day, you will. One day…"

The sadness in his eyes took her heart, and she sighed. "But that day is not today, and may not come for a time still. Now you need to rest, and allow your body to heal and relax. I think I have some athelas leaves in a jar. Let me go and fetch them", she offered, and stood from the bed.

When she returned after a few minutes, she found him fumbling with his garments. He was trying to bend and reach for the buckles on his boots, but the pain at his side forbid him to. She set the jar aside and went to him. "Let me help you."

She knelt and took off his boots, and then loosened the cords of his tunic. He shrugged out of it with some assistance, while his hand went to his side protectively. She then glanced at his breeches. They were bloodied and stained. "Do you want these removed as well? I do not want to make you uncomfortable", she told him nervously.

He looked at her and took a shallow breath. "Yes. You know me, Daenerys. Help me, please", he asked of her, as he once again tried to bend.

"Wait, wait…" She stepped up to him and undid the laces of his breeches. Her fingers were almost shaking, for she was about to expose him so, and did not wish to rob him of his dignity.

But he perceived her turmoil, and brought a hand to cup her cheek gently. "There is no shame in nudity", he whispered to her.

She brought her eyes up to his, drawing comfort from his words, and then yanked his breeches down. They pooled at his feet, and he stepped out of them. Daenerys avoided to look at his private parts, for the situation now felt wrong and uncomfortable. She felt it was not the same as then, in the tent, when he bared himself to her, revealing his scars and his desire for her. Now he was broken and wounded, and all lustful thoughts brought shame to her. She hurried and lifted the covers, and when he climbed underneath them and was covered up to the stomach, she could at last breathe with ease.

Her eyes then went to the jar on the table. "I will crush some leaves and apply them to the wound, alright?"

"Yes…"

She took a bowl of warm water and broke a few athelas leaves in it and pounded them until they became a sticky greenish pulp. The aroma of the healing herb filled the air. Thranduil breathed it in deeply and turned on his left side, and Daenerys came and spread the poultice over his wound, and then dressed it with a clean compress. He instantly felt the pain and discomfort subsiding, and his brow relaxed.

Then she stood and wiped her hands on a towel. "Let me know if you need anything", she told him as she hurried for the door.

"Where are you going?" he worried.

"I must check on Bregedir. And I also need a change of clothes."

"But return to me, please", he nearly begged her.

She looked at him with a small smile. "I will."

* * *

Translations

Gi suilon, Daenerys. Ci maer? = I greet you, Daenerys. Are you well? (Sindarin)

Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin 'raw hen = Great earth, may you give your strength to this body (Sindarin)


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

When Daenerys returned to the bedroom, rain had started falling and a dank chill had set in the chamber. Glancing at Thranduil's half-naked form, she softly stepped close to the bed, and asked him, "Thranduil, are you cold?"

His eyes fluttered open and he shifted, propping himself on the pillow against the bed's headboard. "A little."

"I will light a fire."

She knelt by the fireplace and placed a few logs in it. These days she rarely needed to light it anymore, for the cold had dissipated, but she kept a few pieces of wood there, in case a night proved to be particularly chilly. The Elvenking watched her through half-lidded eyes as she lit the fire. She had changed into a soft nightgown, which looked quite loose and was light blue in color. She had untangled her hair, too, and it now fell in long tresses, unbound and glistening under the young firelight.

"I owe you my life", he murmured, and his words prompted her to look up from her crouched position, tongs still in hand.

"Would you not have done the same for me?"

"Of course…"

"Then there is no debt." She rose with a smile and walked to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I believe. Breathing still troubles me somewhat, but it is nothing I cannot endure", he replied truthfully.

She sat on the edge of the mattress and gazed into his eyes. He looked tired but peaceful. "When I saw you surrounded by those monsters…" she began in a shaky voice.

He took her hand in his, and smiled softly. "I know, my heart. I know."

Tears rose to her eyes then, and she was unable to hold them back, for the tenderness of his words overwhelmed her. But he caressed her hand, soothing her. "Daenerys… forgive me for hurting you earlier, please. I was a fool. I should never have made you suffer", he told her apologetically.

"Oh, Thranduil…" She brought his hand to her lips. "Of course I have forgiven you", she cried in a stifled voice.

His lips curled in a trembling smile, and he nodded. "We suffer enough in the state of our separation, struggling with the knowledge that we may never be able to be truly together."

She sighed. "We do." Then she shook her head. "I should not have put pressure on you. I did not realize how difficult it is for you, to know that all this is fleeting, and that sooner or later you will have to suffer heartbreak and loneliness again. I cannot imagine how it is to live forever, and be doomed to bear your wounds for eternity…"

He reached forward and touched her silver tresses, where they cascaded like a waterfall of moonlight upon her shoulders. She shivered and closed her eyes, relishing the sensation. "Yes, that time will come… But denying you now will not make that time easier. It will only fill it with pain and regret for what could have once be had, but was shunned. I see it now. You were right."

Her eyes peered deep into hers, and were filled with a torrent of feelings, waiting to be unleashed. Daenerys leaned forth and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, touching the cool skin there and gently rubbing the muscle beneath. The Elvenking closed his eyes and sighed, giving himself unto her touch. She followed the line of his shoulder to the back of his neck, massaging the soreness and tension away. And then she dared put her lips where her palm had been, raining soft kisses upon his shoulder. He let out a moan then, and dropped his head back. Passion ignited within her, she kissed his white throat, carefully leaning now against his chest, for she did not want to disturb his injured side. But Thranduil lifted an arm and circled her waist, drawing her into his lap. His eyes were now open and dark with desire, and he pulled her against him. The realization that he was utterly naked beneath the coverlet made her heart beat like a drum in her chest, and her nipples hardened in response. And the thin material of her nightgown did little to cover her reaction, and he saw it. His fingertips tentatively slid from the side of her head to her shoulder, and toyed with the cloth there, until they crept underneath, gently tugging at the gown until it slipped down her creamy-white arm. It came loose in the front, and the material gave way to reveal one round breast. His breath was caught in his throat as he beheld her, and felt himself stiffen beneath the covers. His fingers slowly glided over the soft curve and there they lingered, until the weight of her breast filled his palm, and he kneaded it gently. Daenerys closed her eyes and shivered and gasped, for she had not been touched in a long time, and feelings she had believed dead after Drogo's demise came alive inside her again. And this time everything felt so real, and so much stronger. An indisputable force drew her to Thranduil, and her whole being yearned to be one with him.

"Daenerys, Daenerys…" he whispered, her name like a prayer upon his lips.

She opened her eyes and took in his face in his hour of desire, marveling at his chiseled features and the pools of icy fire that were his eyes. Her hand went and caressed his cheek, his temple, his hair, and back again, and he turned slightly and kissed her palm. He pulled her to him again then, his front making contact with hers. Skin touched upon skin, and Daenerys fully unlaced the bodice of her gown, allowing it to drop to her waist. She clung to him, eager to feel him against her. And his lips descended on hers, soft but demanding, inviting and yet domineering, expressing all at once what Thranduil was. She melted, giving into his kiss willingly, and one arm went around his back, holding him close to her, but she was careful to avoid putting pressure on his right side.

But then he had to break the kiss, as he gasped for air. "Thranduil? Are you alright?" she worried, searching his eyes for traces of discomfort.

He coughed a couple of times, and had to lean back against the headboard until his breath became even again. "I am alright now, worry not", he reassured her.

She climbed off of his lap, drew her gown up, and perched herself at his left side. "We forgot ourselves, and you are wounded", she murmured, caressing now his hand.

"No such trivial wound can rob me of my desire for you", he told her, locking his eyes with hers. She smiled, and he bent his head and kissed her forehead, her cheek and then her lips. "You are beautiful… so beautiful, and strong, and intelligent, and passionate… a Queen…" he whispered to her, and then kissed her again.

Daenerys cradled his face as he kissed her, and then her hand slid down upon his chest, feeling the taut skin and the hard muscles beneath. She felt him grow tense as her fingertips glided over his abdomen, skin smooth and hairless, as was the case with all elves. "And you, my King, are perfect…"

"Perfect?" He laughed. "I am far from perfect. Perhaps I am the most flawed elf that has ever walked this Middle-Earth…"

As she was about to respond to that, her eyes fell on the compress on his side. It looked soaked in blood. Instantly her brow furrowed, and she sat up, reaching with her hand to lift one corner of the cloth and inspect the wound beneath. The Elvenking sighed, averting his gaze. "Is it bad?" he asked her.

"I need to change that compress", she said and stood from the bed. While she was preparing a new one, Thranduil turned and lay on his left side and pushed the covers down. She came to him then and carefully peeled away the old compress. The hematoma had expanded, and blood trickled through the gashes on the skin. "I think you need a healer, a proper one", she muttered.

"You can do it, Daenerys. I will tell what you the words to chant for a healing spell", he said.

"Me? A spell? But I have no magic", she protested.

He lifted his face, propping himself on the elbow. "No magic?" He shook his head. "You have birthed dragons through fire. You can touch fire and it will not harm you. And yet you say you have no magic? I would say, your magic is deep and potent, but you do not realize it."

She stared at him for a long moment, pondering his words. _Perhaps he is right,_ she thought. _I can give it a try. I will only speak some healing words. What ill can it cause?_ "Alright. Teach me the spell."

He nodded. "Anor valthen, togo laugas lín nestad enin gûr hen… Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin 'raw hen… Suil annui, erio thûl lín i faer hen."

Daenerys repeated the words several times, while her hand hovered over his wound. And soon enough Thranduil felt a welcoming warmth seeping through him. The feeling was not the one he had experienced when his own elven healers had over the years treated his battle wounds, but still it was a reviving feeling, and it seemed to him that the healing potential of the cathartic flames was channeled through Daenerys.

She saw his eyelids close, and his brow eased. "Is it any good?" she worriedly asked him.

"Yes… It is good indeed. Thank you", he replied.

She smiled, clearly relieved, and then bent her head and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "You need to rest. I will stir up the fire in the hearth a bit."

She went and did that, but then the Elvenking said, "Daenerys… come here. I would not sleep alone tonight."

She looked into his eyes and saw they were full of longing, and then she realized she could not deny him anything. Noiselessly she climbed into the bed and crawled under the covers beside him, drawing them up and covering them both. Her face now was only a few inches from his, and he smiled at her softly. "Do you see now that you can heal as well?" he murmured. "You have to believe in yourself… and what you can accomplish."

"Yes… You were right." She took his hand and held it on the pillow between their heads.

"You will be Queen of your world one day, of that I am certain. And you will be a great Queen, just and compassionate", he went on.

Her hand now went to his face, where her thumb traced his sharp cheekbone. She looked at him, and could not get enough of him. She leaned closer then and kissed him, and he eagerly responded, parting his lips and allowing her to taste him. His hand slid along her spine, tracing the curves until it reached the small of her back. There it stopped, him being reluctant to go further. But he pressed closer, and his kiss became hungrier, desire building up in his groin again _. How long has it been since I last felt this way?_ It seemed impossible for him to count the years, for they had been too many, and after Gilwen's passing he had felt no desire for carnal love. Only grief and longing nestled in his heart, and all other emotions had been banished. Until Daenerys appeared in his path one day, and brought his world upside down.

Excited by his ministrations, and also triggered by his sweet reluctance, she brought her hand on his hip beneath the coverlet. His nakedness set her imagination ablaze, but she felt a measure of uncertainty herself. But then he moaned in her kiss, and she squeezed his flesh where her hand was resting. His own fingers glided lower then over the swell of her hip and buttock, eliciting gasps from her. He tugged at her gown and pulled it up, hand now creeping underneath and touching her thigh. She bent her leg towards him, allowing him to feel the length of it, and he caressed her from knee to hip and back.

"Thranduil…" she whispered weakly.

"Yes?" He brought his hand up to tenderly cup her cheek.

Her leg pushed between his own. "I do not think I can hold back any more", she confessed breathily.

He gasped when he felt her, and his brow creased. "I have not… I have not touched, or been touched by anyone… for a very long time", was now his turn for confession.

She took a moment to consider this. Clearly, his own very long time meant centuries. Millennia, even? _How could he have lived in utter solitude for so long? To deny the warmth of another living being… To keep his grief and solitude as his sole companion… But then perhaps so are the ways of the elves. Their needs are not like ours, and they are more spiritual than they are physical._ So, instead of touching him further with her hands, she decided to open her spirit to him. She had no idea how to do it, though, for she had no aura of light to command. But what she could do was reach deep within her thought, and focus on Thranduil, and her feelings for him. And she willed with all her power then for him to feel that, and she tried to invite him in her thoughts.

True enough, soon the familiar warmth of his fëa washed over her. "Daenerys…" he whispered, connecting now with her. His spirit had received the invitation, and it eagerly joined with hers. Daenerys felt energy surging through her whole body and bringing it to life, and her fingers tingled with his essence. He surrounded her completely, and she basked in his light, naked and unafraid. And he cherished and adored her openness, and his spirit twined unbreakably with hers.

"Can you feel that?" he murmured in her ear.

"I do. I tried to reach for you with my spirit, as you do, and I am glad I succeeded", she replied. "And I feel even more bonded with you now."

He held her protectively against his breast. "For us elves, this union equals to what humans call lovemaking", he explained.

She lifted her face slightly to look at him. "And… do you not unite… in other ways?" she tentatively asked.

He laughed, and looked into her eyes. Her puzzled look made him laugh again. "Do not mock me!" she protested.

He kissed her lips fleetingly. "I do not mock you. And yes, we do unite like humans do."

Her heart went back to its place. "And for a moment I thought that the Valar bring you your children…"

"Who is mocking whom now?"

She smiled brightly. "I am only teasing you."

His lips crashed against hers, and she accepted him eagerly. When she broke the kiss for air, he looked somber as he spoke. "What I meant to tell you is that bodily union, lovemaking, is considered sacred by the elves, and we do not give into it lightly. That is why I told you I have not been touched by anyone in countless years. It is not in our ways to take lovers for idle company. Do you understand now, Daenerys, what an exceptional thing it is for me to lie naked beside you now, in the throes of passion, ready to be united with you, not only spiritually, but in flesh as well?"

She peered deep into his starlit eyes. "I understand."

He smiled. "There is one last thing, however."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"We do not bond with anyone unless it is for love confessed."

 _Love? Love, yes, love. The elves are so romantic, and feel everything so truly and so deeply. This should not have surprised me._ She sat up, casting her gaze over to the flickering flames in the fireplace. _Do I feel love for him? I feel so many things, but can I name them? Is this admiration, desire, need, or is it love indeed? Can I answer him truthfully, or do I risk a lie?_

"Daenerys…" he whispered her name, and his fingertips touched her shoulder from behind, as he sat up as well, though with some discomfort, for the wound reminded him of its presence with stabbing pain in his side. "You are uncertain."

She could tell he sounded hurt. She turned her eyes to him, though, and said, "You have not spoken of love either, as far as I recall."

His gaze flickered. "You are right… I have not spoken the words. But are you ready to hear them?"

Her lips parted, and she lowered her face. "I do not know. I never thought I would consider loving another, after my husband's death", she replied.

He pulled her in his arms. "It was the same with me, and I understand you completely. You need not rush to say words you do not mean, nor hear words you might feel place you in a position of debt, that you will need to repay them some day." He caressed her hair tenderly. "When you told me in the tent that I want you to love me, it was the truest thing you could tell me. And I do want you to love me, Daenerys. I know it now. I want it with every breath I take. But I want you to love me freely. And so I will wait. I am patient."

She tightened her arms around him. "Thank you", she muttered in a quiet tone, and hot tears ran down her cheeks.

Then Thranduil lay back on the mattress, pulling her with him. She was unwilling to leave his embrace, and huddled close to him. "We shall not speak of it anymore now", he told her softly. "It agitates you, and I hate that."

Daenerys knew not what to tell him. All she wanted was him, to look at him, to touch him, to be with him. But she realized now she needed some time, if she was to be frank and honest with him, for he deserved no less. Thranduil was the Elvenking. He was no mere human, to take as a lover and enjoy for some time, until she gets bored or finds a better replacement. But Daenerys believed in love, and her heart was gentle. "Thank you", she told him again.

He lazily caressed her hair. "Let us try to sleep. We had a very trying day…"

"Yes… And you need to heal. Losto vae, Thranduil", she wished him and kissed his shoulder.

"Oltho vae ne fuin hen… Guren min gaim lín. Estelion allen. Estelio enni."

* * *

The dawn broke golden and clear through the darkness and chased it away. That first light of the day illuminated the bedchamber through the drawn curtains, and Thranduil's eyelids fluttered open. He had gotten little sleep during the night, his mind racing with thoughts and his right side paining him from time to time, until exhaustion claimed him and he fell asleep in the small hours before daybreak.

He shifted a little, and saw Daenerys beside him. She was still asleep, silver tresses splayed upon the pillow, lips slightly parted and soft breath coming through. The covers had slid down as they slept, and the loosened laces of her gown partially revealed a breast. He took in her form under the dim light, and he sighed with longing _. Oh, Daenerys… you have awoken such life within me that I did not know existed._ His fingertips traced her chin, and she hummed softly in her slumber. He bent his head then and dropped a butterfly kiss on her lips.

"Thranduil?" she murmured, voice hoarse from drowsiness.

"Good morning, Daenerys."

Her eyes opened and they glowed purple with the light of the dawn. She saw his face hovering above hers, and a smile came upon her lips. "You are here."

"Where else could I be?"

She extended her arms then, and he drew her into an embrace. She was still warm from sleep, and he sighed against her hair. "I want to wake up like this every day", she whispered to him, and he caressed her back as he held her. Then she drew back a little, so as to look into his eyes. "How are you feeling?" she asked him with concern, and her gaze fell to the compress on his side.

"A little better, I think. The pain has not worsened, and I can breathe normally", he replied.

"Let me change the dressing." She stood and spread some athelas poultice on a clean compress. Then she removed the old one and carefully applied the fresh. "The wound does not look so bad."

"Your healing has worked…" he told her, smiling.

"Let me chant the spell again, then."

For the next few minutes she sang as he lay there on his side, and soon all discomfort dissipated from his body. He felt warm and revived, and when she was done chanting, he sat up vigorously.

"Be careful…" she warned him.

"Do not worry. I am fine", he said and flung back the covers, and made to rise from the bed.

"Thranduil!" she cried. He turned to her with a startle. "You are naked!"

"Oh, that…" he smiled and lowered his gaze. "You have seen me before. In the tent, and in my bath, some months ago…"

She felt her cheeks redden. "Yes, but… This is different. Or do you want to provoke me?" she asked him and looked at him suspiciously.

He leaned towards her with a smirk of complacency. "Perhaps", he told her under a raised eyebrow.

"You fey, mischievous creature!" she yelled and sprang on him, shoving him on his back and straddling him.

His hands went to her hips. "You have me under your power, hiril vuin", he murmured huskily. His eyes danced between her eyes and her lips, and desire pooled in his loins.

Daenerys felt him beneath her, and she gasped. She bent her head then and kissed him passionately, and he responded in kind. His hands slid over to her backside, and pressed her against him. She moved her pelvis then, grinding lightly against him, and he moaned. "You will be my undoing", he rasped.

"Oh, I do want to see you come undone", she assured him. "But I also do not forget what you told me last night." At that she removed herself from his arms and stood from the bed. He remained there, flushed and hard and heaving, to watch her in dismay as she stepped off.

She gazed at him unabashedly, taking in the perfection of his naked form in its aroused state. Her eyes roamed over his strong shoulders, his broad chest, his taut abdomen, his long legs, and lingered over his prodding manhood. But she was determined not to give into the temptation. She turned her back to him and gathered a cloak from the rack. "I have to check on Bregedir, and also make some breakfast", she said casually.

"Daenerys", he called her name, and his voice sounded calm and serious, all playfulness gone from him now. She looked at him from over her shoulder as she fastened her cloak. "I want you to return to my Halls", he stated firmly.

His unanticipated suggestion made her turn fully to him and give him a questioning look. "What?"

"You and your dragons saved the King. What more proof need my people that you are not a servant of evil?"

"Yes, but…"

"And this notion of your exile has been folly from the beginning. I should never have given my consent to it", the Elvenking went on in the same resolved manner.

"You seem to have made up your mind already", she observed.

"Indeed. I slept little, and thought much. Your place is in my Halls, and not in some cave in the mountains. This is absurd and dangerous, and now that the enemy has discovered the house, you cannot remain here anyway, for it is certain that they will seek to assault you again", he told her.

Daenerys took a moment to consider what he had just said. "Yes, you are right about that. Staying here is dangerous. I will never be able to get a night's restful sleep for fear of the orcs." But then her face became worried. "But what of the dragons? They will surely make a lot of your people uncomfortable again. And as they grow, they will need more space… And their roars – you heard them! They will upset the Halls ever so often. Your councilors will not stand for that", she argued.

Thranduil grunted in irritation. He knew the dragons would always pose an insurmountable obstacle for some of the narrow-minded elves. But this time he would not relent. "They can re-occupy the cavern I had given them, and my councilors may whine all they want, if they wish to know my wrath."

But Daenerys shook her head. "That might work for a time. But you have seen how much they are grown. Soon they will not fit through the hallways and gates of your Halls. What then?"

He peered deep into her eyes. "You told me that a dragon is not a slave. And I would not keep your dragons chained in the dungeon. Let them nestle on the mound above the Halls, if so you wish. The hill is large and rocky, and there is bound to be many caverns and crags the dragons can use as their nest. When they grow enough, let them be outside my Halls, and hunt and live freely, as they should."

She sat beside him on the bed and took his hand, deeply moved. "You would allow them freedom, but for the dangers that come with it?"

"Yes… Because I trust you. The dragons obey you, I have seen it with my own eyes many a time. They will only harm your enemies, and none else." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "So… do you wish to return with me to my Halls, Daenerys Targaryen? I have expressed my wish, but the choice is ultimately yours."

Tears rose in her eyes, and she smiled at him brightly. "Yes, yes I do!"

* * *

Translations

Anor valthen, togo laugas lín nestad enin gûr hen… Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin 'raw hen… Suil annui, erio thûl lín i faer hen = Golden sun, may your warmth bring healing to this heart… Great earth, may you give your strength to this body… Western winds, may your breath lift this spirit (Sindarin)

Losto vae = Sleep well (Sindarin)

Oltho vae ne fuin hen… Guren min gaim lín. Estelion allen. Estelio enni = May you dream well tonight... My heart is in your hands. I believe in you. Trust in me (Sindarin)

Hiril vuin = beloved lady (Sindarin)


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Nearly two days had passed since the attack of the orcs. Thranduil was feeling better. Bregedir, the elven guard, had returned to the Halls with the last pair of guards, as he was not seriously injured and fit to ride. Now Daenerys and the Elvenking were alone, and sharing breakfast in her modest kitchen.

"How long before your people come for you?" she wondered. "It has almost been two days…"

"The guards I sent back to deliver the news departed at dusk the day of the attack, and it is a full day's ride to the Halls. So, I expect a rescue party to arrive today at noon, or early afternoon. I would have ridden back, were it not for the persistent pain at my side. Though I can walk now, I doubt I would have been comfortable on my elk's back for a whole day", he explained. "But have you prepared your things?"

She sighed. "Yes… It is not like I own much. It is just my clothes and the books I have been gifted…" Her mind went then to the book Istuives had gifted her, the one lord Oropher had written. "You know, I have a book written by your father", she told him, looking into his eyes.

"Really? My father has written quite a few books, so which one is it?" he asked her as he sipped his tea.

"It is titled 'The House of Oropher'… I have read most of it. I found it exceptionally interesting", Daenerys commented.

Thranduil's gaze darkened. "In that book he describes the Fall of Doriath, and the War of Wrath."

Her hand covered his. "Yes."

"He never wanted me to fight in that war, you know. But I was foolish; I wanted to prove my worth, and the heat of battle burned hot in my veins. I wanted to wield my sword and slay my foes… In my youth I was brash, and unwise. And my foolishness cost me dearly", he muttered.

"But it was a war. All wars come with risks. Does anyone ever march to war with the certainty that he will come back alive and hale?" she countered.

"No, that is true", he agreed. "But our people had no part in that war. The Ñoldor committed the kinslayings. We had no business aiding them in their war against Morgoth."

She squeezed his hand. "But you saw beyond that. You joined them to fight the common foe."

He shook his head. "I did not go to war out of love for the Ñoldor. I hated Morgoth, true enough; but I went because I wanted to fight, and I thought this was my chance to be seen as the best warrior. Do you see now how vain I was, Daenerys?"

"You are still vain, sometimes", she teased him, wishing to lighten his mood.

He gave her a small, mirthless smile. "I know. Some traits never abandon us, it seems. But I wish I had been wiser then, and listened to my parents. For this was not a simple war of the sword and spear, Daenerys. It was the greatest war of Arda, and there fought dragons and balrogs and the Valar themselves. Morgoth swept his hand and mountains collapsed; Manwë wielded his scepter and the skies were torn; Oromë blew his horn and ravines were opened; and when Eärendil came upon his ship Vingilot and slew Ancalagon, the dragon's fall shattered the three peaks of Thangorodrim, so great was he… And in the end the whole world was changed. Beleriand was drowned, and much of what we once knew was lost."

"But you survived that terrible war, Thranduil. Do not darken your thoughts now with events of ages long gone", she bade him.

"Though the events of those times do not often come to my thought, the memory is always there. And again I fought in another war, in the end of the Second Age, and it was the war that cost me my father his life… That war might not have reshaped the world, as happened at the end of the First Age, but the despair that was upon the free peoples was greater. For Sauron was a lord more cunning than Morgoth, though he was not as powerful. His purpose was not to destroy Middle-Earth, like Morgoth sought, but to dominate the minds of its peoples and bend them to his will… So much horror have my eyes seen, that even now I tremble when I turn my eyes south, for there in Mordor sits the Dark Lord, where the shadows lie…"

Daenerys stood from her seat and came to embrace Thranduil. "In the war to come, we will fight together, and we will defeat the Dark Lord. This I promise you", she told him fervently.

He turned his deep eyes to her and cupped her cheek. "Bold words you speak, sweet child. And yet they are a balm on my heart."

He kissed her then, and she kissed him back, and there they sat and kissed for some time, relishing the feeling of each other. And then they talked some more, until noon came and the sound of hooves was heard in the yard. The Elvenking rose, and said, "My people are here. I will go out and meet them."

"I will come with you."

And so both of them walked out of the door, and there was Legolas with three other elves dismounting their horses, all dressed in hunting armor. "Adar!" the young ellon called as soon as he beheld his father. "Are you well?"

"I am well, ionneg", Thranduil answered. "I am sorry to have worried you."

"The guards told us the tale of the attack. They said her dragons rescued you", the Prince said, gesturing towards Daenerys.

She bowed her head before him. "My lord", she said.

"Yes, it is true", the King confirmed. "The orcs were many and well-armed; had it not been for the intervention of Daenerys and her black dragon, we would have been grievously wounded, or even dead…"

Legolas stepped up to Daenerys, who was regarding him with a solemn face. In his blue eyes she saw much of the father. "Hannon le, Daenerys. My father spoke to me of you, but only now I meet you. It is an honor", he said and inclined his head slightly.

"The honor is mine, my Prince."

The Elvenking then took a step forth. "I have decreed that Daenerys shall return to my Halls. It is my will, and it is not negotiable", he declared.

Legolas and the other elves looked at him, pondering his words, but soon they bowed before him, accepting his will. "As you wish, my lord father. No one will object", the Prince said.

"Make ready then, and soon we will depart", he ordered.

"Are you well enough to ride? I have been told you were wounded…" Legolas said.

"I am. Daenerys has become quite the healer, it seems", the King replied with a small smile, and gave her a side-glance. "Daenerys naur-nestril I shall call you, for your magic is in the flames, and you can destroy as well as heal with its power", he told her.

A shy grin curled her lips, and she bowed her head again. "Hannon le, hîr nín."

Then all of them hurried with the preparations, and before the sun had set they were ready to leave. As she mounted her horse and began on the forest trail, Daenerys looked back at the place, which had been her home for more than two months. A feeling of sorrow filled her heart, for she had come to love it, and felt it her own. She was free there, a mistress of the house, and nature was all around her. But it would be too dangerous now to remain here any longer, she knew it well. Furthermore, she deeply wished to share the same roof with Thranduil again. She wanted to be back in her chambers, with the ornate furniture and the balcony with the lovely view of the forest. And so she turned her head and galloped forth. _I must never look back,_ she reminded herself. _There is nothing for me here._

As they trotted through the forest, she brought her horse close to Thranduil's elk. To the front rode Legolas and two of the elves, for the Prince's eyesight was unmatched, and everyone knew that. And to the back followed the rest of the guards, making sure no ill would befall the company in its journey.

"Daenerys", he began. "I can tell you are somewhat sorrowful. Am I wrong?"

She shook her head. "I cannot but feel a small measure of sorrow. But it will soon go away, of that I am certain. How is your side? Does it pain you to ride?"

"I am quite alright for now. My people brought me some athelas infusion, and I have taken a few sips. I feel well, do not worry", he reassured her.

"Good."

A loud roar then tore the air, and everyone looked to the sky. There flew Drogon, and beside him his brothers, proud and free. Daenerys smiled at the sight of them, and her heart sang in joy, for every time she saw her children fly, she felt she was flying up there with them.

"Are they upset?" the Elvenking wondered.

"No. They are delighted", she chimed, and her violet eyes glimmered in joy. Thranduil saw her and her emotions were not lost on him, and his heart swelled in warmth and affection for her.

Far above the trees Rhaegal chased Viserion, and he struck back, the dragons twining their tails as they flew higher and higher, and then they shot down from the sky with cries and shrieks, parting ways just above the treetops, their wide wings creating currents of air and causing leaves and branches to shake.

"They are breathtaking", said Thranduil in awe.

"They are still children. This is how they like to play when they fly together", Daenerys explained.

"I hope they do not breathe fire for sport", an elf riding close to them said.

"No, they do not breathe fire needlessly. They do it only to protect themselves, or their mother", she replied.

In that fashion they rode, and went on for several hours after the sun had set. But the darkness made everyone wary, and even the dragons kept quiet. Still, it was a warm night in the heart of spring, and the scent of night-flowers filled the air. Daenerys noticed how the elves glowed lightly as they rode in the dark, and a few of them had begun singing in low, mellow tones a hymn to Elbereth, praying to her for guidance and protection on their way. Their voices were beautiful and melodious, and their presence so ethereal and gracious that the sight mesmerized Daenerys, and she felt lucky to have met the elves, such a majestic and ancient race, far superior to any race of her own world. Perhaps they shared some qualities with the Children of the Forest, of which she had heard stories when she was little; but then the Children were supposed to be small, and their magic was lost over the centuries. The elves, however, were tall and fair, noble of countenance and gentle in their every move, and their magic felt deep and potent.

At some point the King called for the fellowship to stop and make camp for the night, when they came to a clearing in the woods, and a small stream ran nearby. The guards set up tents but lit no fire, for fear of attracting the attention of the enemies. After sharing a modest meal of bread and cheese and berries, each looked to their own business, and the guards decided upon shifts to safeguard the royals and Daenerys as they slept. But little anxiety had they, for there were three dragons here to protect them.

Daenerys saw the King conversing with his son, and so she decided to pace away. She found Drogon perched upon a large rock by the stream, and she climbed on beside him. He hummed deep in his throat when he sensed her presence, enjoying her caresses with closed eyes. She leaned against him, and the warmth radiating from the dragon brought her comfort. "Once you nestled in my arms, Drogon", she murmured. "Now you are grown, and our roles are changed." The black dragon snorted in response. "I feel safe when I am with you, my child. I love you, you and your brothers. I love you more than you know. You are precious to me beyond measure."

Then she turned her eyes to the sky. It was cloudless and clear, and myriads of stars shone silver. In the distance above the trees a waning moon was just rising. "Once there were only stars in this world. Can you imagine that, Drogon? A world of night and perpetual starlight… Such a magical sight it must have been, to awaken under the stars…"

Her thoughts then shifted to her own world. _If the time ever comes that I return, how will I be able to leave this place? For, if I am to be honest with myself, I have come to love this world, this forest… I wish I could see more of it. I have read so much in the lore-books, but seen so little… I wonder how the halls of the dwarves in the mountains look, and the great cities of men in the south, and the green villages of the hobbits, and even the other elven realms, Imladris and Lothlórien…_

"What is my fair lady dreaming of?"

A familiar voice brought her out of her musings. She turned her eyes to see Thranduil standing at the foot of the rock, hands tied on his back and smiling softly. "I was enjoying the light of the stars, and thinking of places I would like to visit one day", she replied.

"And what would those places be?"

Daenerys stood and came beside Thranduil, and Drogon shifted lightly, turning his head the other way in his slumber. "The lands of men, and dwarves, and hobbits… all of your world, actually. I do not wish to leave this world and have seen so little. I want to see as much as I can, and to make memories to keep me, when my time of struggle comes…"

He touched her shoulder softly. "But have you found a way out yet? Have those books I gave you proven of any use?"

She shook her head. "Two of the tomes I have read, and they say a lot, but nothing as to how one may travel between worlds. My last hopes remain with the last book."

"Even if this last book does not contain any answers, we will continue searching for them. The knowledge of the world is vast, and there are places where it is well kept and protected", he told her.

She smiled faintly. "Thank you."

He looked deep into her eyes then, and his heart fluttered. "Such a night it must have been, when Elwë beheld Melian and became entranced by her", he murmured.

"Are you entranced by me, Aran nín?" She turned to face him fully, and placed her palms on his chest.

"I would gladly spend the long years of my life looking into your eyes, even if it was the only thing I ever did", he confessed.

Her smile grew brighter then, and she tiptoed to kiss his lips. Amused by her sweet effort, he bent and kissed her tenderly, with great care and reverence, unhurried and slow, relishing the feeling of her in his embrace. And she melted in his arms, and was kissed like she had never been kissed before. And spring and new life was all around them, and filled their hearts with hope.

"Come and sleep by my side tonight", he invited her, holding her hand upon his heart.

"They will say the King is enchanted by the fire-witch."

"You are not the fire-witch, not anymore. They respect you. And I want you by my side. Will you not come?" he asked again.

"I will."

Together they walked back to the camp, and silence was over it. Legolas was nowhere to be seen, probably gone to sleep in his tent, and a guard stood with his spear, watching vigilantly the woods for signs of danger. Thranduil lifted the sheet of his tent and allowed Daenerys to walk in, and he entered behind her. He then lit a candle, for he disliked utter darkness, and placed it upon a flat stone. Furs were on the ground, and Daenerys knew this was to be the bed.

The Elvenking removed his cloak, and she did the same. Long shadows danced on the sheets of the tent, and the music of the night was heard outside.

"Our last time in a tent has been most intimate…" Daenerys noted.

"Yes… It is where we bonded for the first time, truly", he agreed.

"Much time has passed since then", she said.

He smiled. "Not that much."

She smirked at him. "Well, if your measure of 'much time' is a century or so, then yes, very little time has passed!"

"You are teasing me again…"

She laughed softly, and he laughed after her. She then went to take his hand in hers. "I wish you laughed more often. It is such a lovely sound… I understand why your parents chose this name for you", she commented.

"I had forgotten how it is to laugh and be merry, but you have reminded me of all this. You bring joy into my life", he told her lovingly and kissed her knuckles.

"And what will it be when I am gone? How will you laugh then?" she asked him with concern.

His gaze instantly darkened, and a frown descended upon his brow. "All I can say is that I will keep the memory of you close to my heart, and I will be consoled by the knowledge that you have returned to the world you love and belong to, and that you will take back your throne and all that was stolen from you. I will be consoled by the knowledge that you are happy and content, at last", he replied, and looked at her with sorrow and longing.

 _But will I truly be happy in a world where you are not? Will I be strong enough to let go of what binds me here, which I so dearly cherish?_ Her thoughts upset her, and she sought to hide her face in the hollow of his throat. "No more talk of parting now. Tonight you and I are both here, and I care for little else."

She raised her eyes to his then, and he nodded in agreement. They kissed then, and she poured in her kiss all her feelings of sorrow and uncertainty. But his bright aura encircled her, and soon she felt calm, and her fears were chased away. She relaxed into his arms, and pulled him closer to her, wishing to feel as much of him as she could. His fingers threaded through her tresses, destroying her braids purposefully. She smiled at that, noticing how he always wore his hair down, simple and unadorned. "You never braid your hair…" she murmured.

"No. Unlike you."

"It was a custom of my late husband's people to braid their hair. It was a symbol of power and authority, and they would bind little bells in their braids for every victory they won. But if they were defeated, their hair was cut. Drogo had the longest braid…" she mused.

"He must have been a great warrior."

"The greatest."

Thranduil took her by the hand to sit beside him on the furs. "Do you miss him, Daenerys?"

She stood thoughtful for a while. "Sometimes I miss him terribly. But the pain of his passing has numbed… and I know it will fade with time."

"Such is the gift of men. You have a short time to live, but you make the most of it, and free yourselves from grief; your hearts are made to heal, and the sorrows do not linger forever", he spoke solemnly.

"You envy that, Thranduil…" she observed.

"I do. Oh, I do. If only my grieving heart could find its peace…" he lamented.

"But you will sail west, when the time comes."

He looked at her. "Of that, I am not sure."

"Why?"

"I have not heard the call of the sea… And I have my son here, and a duty to my people. I know not what the future will bring, but for now I have no thoughts of departing", he answered. She caressed his hand, and he turned his palm to grasp hers. "And I have you, too… for now."

His lips found hers then, and his kiss was filled with abandon, as if she would vanish from his arms any moment. She sensed his turmoil and cradled his face as she kissed him back. Slowly he leaned back on the furs, and she followed him, twining her limbs with his. One of his legs was between hers, and she bent her knee above his thigh, and drew him close. They kissed again, with greater urgency this time, and he gently pushed her on her back, covering her body partially with his. She gasped and panted, but he gestured for her to be silent. She laughed under her breath, for it was a sweet conspiracy they shared, and he traced her luscious lips with his thumb. Daenerys flicked out her tongue then and licked his finger. The look in her eyes was seductive, suggesting what more she could do with her tongue for him. And it was now Thranduil's turn to gasp and blush, and he felt himself stiffen in his breeches despite himself.

She saw his reaction, and thought to provoke him further, taking now his finger in her mouth and sucking upon it. He was breathless and watched her with wide eyes as she continued her ministrations, spreading now her legs for him to settle between them. He stifled a groan, but pushed against her all the same, clothed as they were. Daenerys tightened the grip of her thighs around his hips, and lifted her face to kiss him. His tongue delved insatiably in her mouth, as the carnal desire overwhelmed him. She bit lightly on his lower lip in response, and he pressed his lower body against her, seeking more contact with her. His hands traveled up the curves of her sides, from her hips to her waist and her ribs, until they reached the underside of her breasts. There they lingered, and his thumbs teased her through the coarse material of her riding tunic. But she grasped one of his hands and boldly guided it over the mound of her breast until it lay beneath his palm. He squeezed her flesh there a few times, and then his fingers fumbled with the laces, impatient to crawl underneath and touch her skin.

Meanwhile, her own hands were not idle. She followed the line of his back as far as she could reach, but he was too tall, and the heavy material of his tunic allowed little for pleasure. Instead, her hand crept between their bodies and to his front, and slowly descended from his chest to his abdomen. But before it reached its destination, Thranduil froze above her, his breath erratic and shallow. "Daenerys…" he uttered her name, and conflicting emotions were written all over his face.

She gently pushed him in a seating position then, and knelt beside him. "We are playing with fire", she murmured.

"You are fire made flesh. And you might be impervious to flames, but I am burning with my desire for you, so much that I fear I will overstep", he admitted breathlessly.

"Is that why you stopped me from touching you?" she asked him sweetly, as she cupped his cheek.

"Yes…"

"And what if you overstepped? Do you not know it is all I want?"

He looked into her eyes. "I do not want it to be _all_ you want", he replied.

Her gaze flickered then like a candle, for she understood his meaning. "I know, Thranduil, I do. And I do not forget what we said and agreed upon. But it is so hard, when I am alone with you, to keep that promise…" she confessed.

"It is exceedingly difficult for me as well, when all I wish now is to join with you not only in spirit but in body, too. My desire for you is threatening to consume my reason, and it is a frightful thing…" he told her.

"No, I do not want to agitate you", she said and embraced him tightly. _I love you too much to cause you pain,_ she thought, but at once wondered at her own unbidden thoughts. She drew back and looked at him with puzzlement and uncertainty evident in her gaze.

"Daenerys? Are you alright?" Thranduil worried, and touched her shoulder.

But she shrugged from his touch. Suddenly the thought of loving him filled her with inexplicable dread. _I will be hurt again. I will suffer loss again. No, I must protect my heart. I must not allow myself to bond with him. I have strayed too long, but I must not lose sight of my true purpose again._ She pulled back, averting her eyes from his.

"Daenerys? Talk to me, please", he urged her, now very much alarmed.

She stood and clumsily gathered her cloak. "I am sorry… I must go."

"Daenerys!" his voice came as a hiss.

Without another word or glance, she ran out of his tent.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

By noon the following day the Elvenking, his company and the dragons reached the great underground home of the wood-elves. But for his efforts to start a conversation with her and his expressed concern about her behavior the previous night, Daenerys had remained tight-lipped during the ride, offering him only single-worded answers and refusing to explain why she had left him so abruptly. In the end he was disheartened and gave up.

The King was greeted with much joy by his people as he entered the Halls through the grand gates, and the councilors were there to voice their relief about their sovereign's safe return. Their faces darkened though, when they beheld Daenerys and the three dragons, but Thranduil seemed to be in a foul mood, and suffered no objections. The dragons were led to their old cavern, and Luineth came and welcomed Daenerys with a warm embrace, and helped her carry her things to her chambers.

When she was at last alone, Daenerys sank in the armchair and gazed bleakly at the cold fireplace. Nothing in her room had changed; the furniture was the same, and the vase was there upon the mantel where she had left it. The curtains were drawn to the side and ample light filled the room. Fresh sheets covered the bed, but she took little joy in returning to her old chamber. For her heart was heavy with the betrayal she had done upon Thranduil. She could not name it otherwise; it felt to her that she had betrayed his trust and his love. For Daenerys was certain that he loved her. With elves, it could be no other way. He would never have reached such levels of intimacy with her, had he not loved her truly and deeply. And she had spurned his love, disregarding that he had gone far out of his way for her sake.

But that voice in her head kept telling her that it would be a mistake to bond with him, for then she would never wish to leave him and return to her own world, where her place truly was. And she had to hearken to that voice, or else she would give into her feelings and forsake her purpose.

Weary at heart, after some time she rose from the armchair and dragged her feet to the bathroom, in hopes that the hot water would cleanse away her sorrow and shame.

* * *

A couple of days passed, but Daenerys cared not if the sun dawned or if the stars shone. She would get out of bed in the morning and follow a dull routine, and she would chat with Luineth or the bakers, but her heart was not into any of this. For always in her mind lay heavy the burden of her remorse.

She had not seen the King as of yet, and she suspected that he remained in his chambers, until his wound was properly healed. Something inside her urged her to go and visit him, and make sure he was alright, but then again she hesitated, for she feared her presence would not be welcome.

A whole week went by like this, with the dilemma unresolved, until on the eighth day her worry and tenderness won over her fear, and she decided to head for the Elvenking's rooms. When she neared the doors, the chief healer was just exiting.

"My lady Doronith", Daenerys greeted her.

"Daenerys, sweet child. My heart sings in joy to see you again", she spoke merrily.

The mother of dragons answered with a small smile and an inclination of the head, but her haste and uneasiness was obvious. "Is the King alright?"

"He is recuperating. He told me you saved his life…" Doronith commented.

"I… I could not abandon him", she said. "But it was the dragon that saved him, not me."

"He would have done nothing, had it not been for you to call him forth. You deserve the credit, Daenerys. You need not be so unwilling to accept it", the healer insisted.

And that was true. She was the one to call to Drogon, and order him to assail the orcs. Her child obeyed her command. And Thranduil had seen the living terror and majesty her dragons were, and that they could be used to do good, and vanquish the enemy.

"My dragons and I are one", she finally said, after a small pause. _And I will never be parted from them._

Doronith nodded. "Yes, indeed… It is plain for all to see that you are fire as much as they are. The elves are perceptive of one's hidden strength, you know. And that is why some fear you", she told her, looking at her intently. "But do not be afraid of them. No one will ever harm you."

"I know that. And I am not afraid. I only wish to be accepted", Daenerys confided in her with a small sigh.

"It is very hard for the ice to accept the fire… And yet, it is not impossible", the healer replied cryptically.

"How can this be? Ice and fire are opposites, they destroy each other", Daenerys argued.

"If ice can burn, then it is not impossible", she whispered, peering deep into her eyes.

And then Daenerys felt her eyes being opened to truths she had never considered, and marveled at the wisdom of the ancient elleth. "My lady…"

"Now, now. We have chatted too much, and you were on your way to see the King. He also told me you healed his wound, you know… You chanted a healing spell, and stopped the internal bleeding, and calmed his breathing. Is it not so?" she asked with kindness in her eyes.

Daenerys smiled timidly. "He believed in me. He trusted that I could use my inner magic to heal him… And he was right. Never before had I realized I had magic. But he made me see it."

Doronith touched her arm gently. "I am so proud of you, child. I knew you could become a good healer."

"Thank you, my lady", she said, accepting her complimenting words. "But can I go in? Can I see him? I do not wish to disturb him…"

The chief healer shook her auburn head. "He is awake, and in a fine mood. He gave no orders to keep potential visitors off, so…" she shrugged her shoulders with a bright smile, and gestured for her to walk through the doors.

Daenerys stepped forth and closed the oaken doors behind her. After crossing the antechamber, she came underneath the great arch of his bedroom's entrance. There was Thranduil lying in the bed, turned on his left side, facing away from the door. "Have you forgotten to take with you your jars and ointments again, Doronith?" he called in amusement, but as he turned his eyes towards the sound of the approaching steps, his smile faded in surprise and wonderment.

"It is only me", Daenerys said in a low, calm tone.

He sat up and drew the covers to his stomach, while his eyes studied her figure. She was clad in a long gown in the color of plum, which accentuated her violet eyes. Her hair was braided on the crown of her head, and a few loose tresses cascaded to her shoulders. "What do I owe the honor to?" he asked her, with sarcasm palpable in his voice. But in truth her sight filled his heart with longing, and this weakness of his character angered him.

"I wished to see how you are doing. Are you well?" Daenerys spoke, disregarding his contemptuous words and look. She could not give him wrong, though. She might have been a lot colder, were she in his position.

"I am well enough, and getting better as the days progress", he replied, his face seemingly devoid of emotion.

"Your wound was deep… Is it still bleeding?" she worried.

"Barely. It is healing well, my healers tell me."

She disliked his short answers now, remembering that Thranduil was usually quite eloquent with words. She knew it to be a sign of indirect displeasure, which would not be expressed openly for the sake of civility. She looked into his eyes then, and he held her gaze until she felt uncomfortable and had to look away. "Well, my lord, it pleases me to see you are recovering. I should not disturb you any longer", she muttered, and made to leave.

Thranduil struggled with his desire to have her stay, and strove to maintain his cool façade. She did not deserve a quick pardon. He was still bitter towards her, and he felt he might be for a long time, but her visit and apparent concern had softened his heart a little.

"Have the first days of your return been pleasant?" he asked her, schooling his face into one of formality.

"They have been… tolerable", she admitted, turning again towards him.

"Has anyone wronged you, or spoken ill to you?" he went on, asking these questions despite himself. He should not have shown her he cared, but then again it was his duty as King to ensure her safety and well-being, while she dwelled under his roof.

"No, no… Everyone has been kind to me. I have no complaints to voice." She could not tell him her own heart was the cause of her unrest. She knew she should apologize to him for her behavior that night, but she did not feel ready for it, not yet at least. So, she only told him, "I need a few days to get used to my old chambers again, that is all."

He observed her face as she spoke, and then nodded slowly, blinking once, without displaying any indication as to whether he believed her words or not. "Very well. It pleases me to hear you speak thus. And now, I would like to rest", he told her, signaling their conversation was over.

"Of course", she hurriedly said, bowing her head. "I will leave at once. Rest well, my lord", she said and quickly walked out of the room, as if she was fleeing from a fight she did not want to fight.

Thranduil let out a deep sigh when she was gone, and sunk back in his pillows. Sometimes, he found it insurmountably hard to be the icy statue he was known to be. Sometimes he just wished he could be himself, without any repercussions.

* * *

The first weeks of Daenerys' return were marked by the brightening of the sun, which heralded an early summer. The days became warmer, and the breeze was soft and fragrant. Often she would go for walks in the forest, accompanied by one of her dragons each time, like she used to do before her exile. It felt as if nothing had changed superficially, and yet nothing was the same.

The Elvenking busied himself with his duties, scheduling as many meetings with dignitaries of other realms as possible. He always seemed to be locked in his chambers, or in the council chamber for that matter. At some point he had announced that there was to be a feast in honor of Daenerys, for he owed her his life, but as of yet no date had been specified. The elves suspected their liege waited for Midsummer's Eve, so as to combine the feasts, but Daenerys simply knew he was in no mood for celebrations now, especially for a feast in her honor, where he would have to face her during the whole length of the feast. For he had avoided all contact with her after her visit to his chambers, while he was still recovering from his injury, and she had avoided him as well. Their behavior was childish and annoying and they both knew that, but it could not be helped. Thranduil felt embittered, and Daenerys had decided to keep to her own. Instead, she dedicated most of her free time to reading the third ancient tome, hoping to come across a valuable revelation, at last.

And there she was now, deeply lost in the pages of her book on a sweet afternoon of late Lothron, when she heard a knock on her doors. Startled, she lifted her eyes from the book. "Luineth? Is that you?" she called, as she made for the door.

But when she unlocked it and was met with Thranduil's imposing presence, she gasped. "No, Daenerys, it is I", he told her in a grave tone, and his eyes matched the quality of his voice. "May I come in?"

She stepped aside, and gestured for him to enter, still unable to speak a word. He walked in in measured step, almost military-like and posed, and came to stand by the table. His eyes fell on her open book, but they showed no particular emotion. "I see that your search continues… Have you discovered anything?" he inquired.

She stepped a little closer to him, directing her gaze to the book as well, in order to avoid looking at him. "There are only vague references of travels to unknown worlds through dreams and visions… But no actual travel is mentioned."

He shook his head, and then walked below the arch that led to the balcony. The soft light of the setting sun made his skin shine and his hair glow silver-golden. But to her he looked distant and cold, almost a stranger. "I came to tell you that I have happened upon a piece of information you may find interesting", he began. "There is an old scroll, originating from the library at Tham Mírdain in Eregion, which I have no idea how came to be in my possession. It speaks of what you seek", he said pointedly, and turned his eyes to her. His look was sharp, but hers was full of question and hope, and it made his hardened heart soften a little. "A travel to another world is possible only through blood magic, the scroll states."

"Blood magic?" she repeated the ominous words with dread.

The Elvenking nodded. "It requires a sacrifice – and the victim must be willing to offer their life. A life must be given for the gates of space to open, and a spell has to be chanted." His icy gaze pierced her heart. "The scroll was written by Sauron himself. He possesses vast knowledge, and most of it pertains to the dark arts, and black magic. He wrote this when he was in Eregion, disguised as Annatar amongst the elves there…" He approached her then, and produced the scroll from his robes. It was old and yellowed, and a black ribbon held it rolled. "Here, take it, and do with it what you will. I have no use for it."

Her fingers trembled as she grasped it, for she had never imagined the answer to her question to lie with the Dark Lord himself. And when the scroll was in her hands, she could almost feel his black energy lingering there, and she, who had never been burned, felt now her fingers scorched, and she dropped the scroll. "It is utterly evil…" she rasped.

Thranduil looked at the scroll on the floor, and his brow furrowed. "It is", he affirmed. "But I fear this is the only answer you will ever find. You came here through blood magic, and through blood magic you must return."

At that he made to turn and leave, but she was not ready for that. "Thranduil!" she called his name, and her hand shot out and grasped his sleeve.

He turned at her with a look of indignation. "My lord", he corrected her, and yanked his arm away.

But it was all too much for her then, and tears welled up in her eyes. "My lord", she whispered brokenly. "How can you leave me now, when you have told me such dreadful news?"

He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, and poured all his willpower into maintaining his cold exterior. "I do not see what more I can do for you. I promised to help you, and I did. I have found you your answer. Are you not satisfied?" His eyes burned into hers, a torrent of emotions in their depths.

"But such an answer… You give me Sauron's work and I am supposed to be glad?" she asked in agony.

"It is regrettable that the answer had to be such. But this is it, and we cannot change it", he told her in a softer tone.

She looked at him, searching for traces of his love and compassion, but he seemed unyielding in his demeanor. She bent then and gathered the scroll, tossing in on the table. "If ever I find the heart to read it…" she sighed. "Still, I could never do that. I could never pay that price to return to my world. No life I will sacrifice, for my dreams are not worth it", she whispered sullenly, and wiped a tear away. She felt her heart being crushed under a huge weight, and her world and hopes shattered around her. Feeling on the verge of breaking, she whispered, "Please, leave."

He gave her one last look, and constrained himself from going to her. Instead, he turned and marched out of the room. But as he closed the door, he heard her bursting into sobs and weeping her heart out. His hand tightened upon the doorknob. One turn, and he would rush inside and take her in his arms and comfort her, as his heart cried for him to do. But he knew that he should not. She had asked for her privacy, and he was still feeling hurt for her rejection of his feelings and her aloof manner since that night in the woods. _No, this is something she must cope with on her own,_ he decided. Without another thought, his fingers slid off the doorknob and he walked away.

The scroll was as dark as one might have expected for a scroll written by Sauron himself. The text was elegant, but twisted, and although sweetened with words of light and hope that the elves loved to use, the dreadful message was clear. This was blood magic – black magic – it described beyond any doubt.

For days Daenerys struggled with her fear of reading it, and made herself finish the ancient tome first, in case another way of traveling between worlds was mentioned. But her efforts were to no avail. The only possibility of going back to her world lay with Sauron's dark scroll. And at last she picked it up from the table, where it had remained untouched since the day Thranduil had given it to her, and tugged at the black ribbon and unrolled it.

"Of Travels to Hidden Worlds…" she whispered the title, and then her eyes ran on the Dark Lord's flowing script.

"… _and not few are those hidden worlds. But Eru had decreed to keep them from the sight and knowledge of his children, for he wished to keep them safe and free of such temptations. And truly, what a temptation it is to visit a world different, and escape in it… But one must never consider such folly, for within such travels lie perils unknown…"_

"… _but it has been since long discovered by the Ancient and the Wise. Still, it is a dark path to tread on, for the writ of passage to another world is the sacrifice of a life. A life must be taken from this world, for one to enter another. But the life must be given freely and not taken by force. Therefore one cannot take the life of an enemy and hope to leave this world. And the life must be sentient, of someone with free will and formed thoughts. Therefore one cannot offer the life of an animal or a lesser being. One must offer the life of a friend, it is said. But of course none has ever attempted this, for it is darkness and folly…"_

"… _but if one wished to truly do this evil deed, he should chant the spell of passage, as he performs the sacrifice. The dark words to be said are these:_

' _One life to leave this world, one life to pay for it. One willing to lay down his life for a friend, and the friend to claim it. Let now the blood run hot, let the darkness take it. Let it open this door, for one to leave this world and ever forsake it.'_

" _Thrice must these words be said, and then the gates of space shall open. The traveler must then think of the hidden world he wishes to go to, and speak the name of the place aloud. But he may do so with the knowledge that he cannot return, unless a new sacrifice is made. Once the spell is chanted and the door is opened, it cannot be undone. One cannot falter or change his mind after the deed, for he will leave this world for sure. Once the spell is done, there is no going back…"_

"… _and this knowledge is entrusted to the wise elves of Eregion by their honest friend Annatar, to keep it safe and secret, and far from evil eyes."_

Daenerys shoved the scroll aside in disgust. _An honest friend, he calls himself. What honest friend teaches you how to do such dark deeds? What friend plants such evil seeds in your heart, and yet counsels you against them? Sauron, the Master of Lies as the elves call him, deceived them… But this information has been kept secret for centuries. No elf would ever perform such a deed, and now this dreadful knowledge has come into my hands… No, I could never sacrifice the life of a friend. And who would be willing to offer their life as a price for me to return to Westeros? Nobody. This scroll is useless to me. I had better destroy it._

She went and held it over the flame of the candle, and soon the parchment caught fire. But as it burned, blackened and withered, the words of the spell were stuck in her head, and repeated themselves over and over: _One life to leave this world, one life to pay for it. One willing to lay down his life for a friend, and the friend to claim it. Let now the blood run hot, let the darkness take it. Let it open this door, for one to leave this world and ever forsake it…_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Summer came, bright and warm. The days became longer still, and the sun rose early and lingered in the sky, lending its light and warmth to the earth. The trees were green with new leaf and the birds sang merrily on their branches. The waters in the forest streams ran clear and calm, and the grass grew tall. And the elves of the Woodland Realm were busy those days, for the preparations for Midsummer's Eve had begun, and they took a whole week until everything was ready for the celebration. The King had decided that this year the feast would be held in honor of their guest, Daenerys Targaryen, for she had proved to be loyal and true when she saved his life from the orcs. And any elf that had placed a bet that those celebrations were to be combined came now and collected the earnings.

Daenerys wandered out of the Halls more often now that the weather was brilliant, and she liked to watch the preparations in the gardens, for there would the feast take place. The royal gardens were wide, and made below the hill in which the Halls were built, where it opened and created a protected haven among the concave rock and the trees of the forest. Cobblestone paths went between flowerbeds, and in the middle there was a fountain and a large square. Upon there and on the grass beyond several tents were being erected, small and large, and elves upon ladders hang lanterns from poles and festive garlands made of twined flowers and greenery. Long tables and benches were being brought outside and placed under the tents, and a platform was built for the minstrels to stand during the feast.

There she stood now, dressed in a pale rose gown, and watched the elves, when she heard footsteps approaching from behind. She turned in curiosity and there walked the King and the Prince along with two of the councilors. _They have come to inspect the preparations,_ she thought, and moved aside, not wishing to be seen. But Thranduil's eyes had found her, and his gaze pierced her as he passed her by.

They stopped on the square, and the King called the chief builder. "How go the preparations?" he asked.

"Excellent, my lord. All shall be ready in time for the feast", the ellon chimed.

"Very well", Thranduil said with a nod of his head.

"Where would you like your tent to stand?" the builder asked.

"The same place as every year, Lanthiron. Make sure to place high seats, for myself, my son, and our honored guest as well. Legolas will sit on my right and she on my left. Is that understood?" the Elvenking required under a raised brow.

"It is, my lord. All shall be done as you ask."

Then Lanthiron was dismissed, as the King and his companions scattered, inspecting the decorations and giving orders to the builders, when they wished for something to be moved or altered. But Thranduil's steps deliberately brought him to where Daenerys was standing, and he looked at her. "Daenerys, there is no need for you to linger in the shadows. Come forth. This feast will be held in your honor", he spoke formally, but not unkindly.

She took a few steps. "I did not wish to be in your way, my lord. You came here for business, and I was only watching the preparations, to help pass the time", she replied, and the sorrow in her voice did not go unnoticed by Thranduil.

He looked at her more closely. "Are you well?" he asked her, trying to sound even as before.

"I am", she answered, but averted her gaze.

He knew her well enough to understand that she was not telling the truth. "What did you do with the scroll I gave you?"

She brought her eyes back to him, and they were darker with dread and aversion. "I burned it."

"You burned it?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes. I detest its content. I want nothing to do with such vile workings. Never would I take a life to leave this world. Even the mere thought of it makes my stomach roil", she replied in a strained voice, and pressed her lips tight. Then she returned her violet eyes to him. "But you have kept your end of the bargain; you helped me find a way to leave this world. It is not your fault that it should be such a dark and evil way. It is nobody's fault…" She shook her head. "And I will keep my promise. The dragons are growing. When the time of war comes, you shall have my aid."

"If only it need not be thus", he lamented.

She forced herself to present a hard exterior. "In my short life I have learned that only seldom do things go as we plan them. Life surprises us more often than not."

"That is most true", he agreed, and looked idly at the fountain in the distance.

She watched him from the corner of her eye. _He misses me, I can tell. I can feel it. I can feel his spirit wishing to reach for mine, but he holds back._ "We have to adapt to what life serves us", she said.

"What will you do, then? Will you stay?" he asked her, returning his gaze to her.

"I have no choice, do I?" Her voice came harder than she had intended, and she saw his brow furrow.

"After you have fulfilled your promise, I will ask no more of you. If we emerge victorious and the Shadow is defeated, you may be free to do what you will. You may travel as you wish, and see all the places of Middle-Earth. Your life need not be confined in my dark and gloomy Halls. There are marvelous sights beyond my borders for you to see, and those sights might alleviate the pain in your heart", he told her softly, all hardness gone from him now. For an instance he was the ellon she had come to know in the past months, and not the cold King he became after they had fallen out.

 _He remembers. He remembers I have told him I wish to travel, and he wants to give me that chance. Oh, Thranduil, your heart is gentle. But I have hurt you, I know. I refused to be frank with you, I denied my own feelings, and I shunned yours. I had chosen to focus on my purpose to find a way back to my own world then, and how could I ever leave if I let myself love you? But there is no hope for that now, and there is no hope to regain your trust and your love again… I have betrayed you._

He saw that her gaze was lost and sorrowful. "I am telling you this now because I want you to know it and remember it", he went on. "For if I do not survive the war…"

"Do not say that", she interrupted him, and the depths of her eyes trembled.

He shook his head and sighed. "Still, it is an undeniable truth. My father was a great warrior and yet he perished in the war. We do not know what the future holds. So, I want you to know that you will be free, whether I live or not."

Suddenly the prospect of his death panicked her. He was the Elvenking, gracious, ever-young and immortal. To speak of his death seemed so unnatural, almost blasphemy. _Is this how he felt when he lost his father, and his wife? That immortal lives were not meant to be taken, and death should not be a finality for them, not an inescapable fate, as it is for mortals. And yet he speaks of death so plainly, so dispassionately, almost as if…_

She peered deep into his eyes, and dared speak thus: "One might say you long for death to deliver you, my lord."

He held her gaze for a while, and his frown deepened. "When the duty to my people and to my realm is done, I have no purpose here. I have an heir to take over the crown… and if it is my fate to die in combat, then I will greet it gladly."

At that he turned and walked away, unwilling to look at her again or speak more of his dismal thoughts. Daenerys watched his silhouette shrink in the distance. He wore a radiant white cloak, which caught and reflected the light as he went. But she found the color of his raiment to be at odds with his mood, and her heart grew heavy with sorrow for him. She was sorry for him, she was sorry for herself, she was sorry for them both.

* * *

And the days went by, as the passing of time is always even and impartial, regardless of the plans or feelings of the living beings. Midsummer's Eve was come at last. As soon as the sun took to the west and its light dimmed and the heat of the day dissipated, the elves gathered in the royal gardens and the celebrations began.

The Elvenking, dressed in long robes of silvery silk and wearing his summer crown of elanor and alfirin blossoms, looked splendid as he stood on the square before the fountain, and addressed his people. "Tonight we celebrate the Sun, and her life-stirring power. Were it not for her warm embrace, our world would fall to darkness and death. Days of summer are ahead of us, and may they be days of joy and prosperity. May Elbereth Gilthoniel, who created the Sun and the Moon a long time ago, bless us in our toil and light our path with wisdom. May she fill our hearts with hope and courage, for dark times await us. May our hearts soar like the golden Sun." He made a small pause then, and turned his gaze to Daenerys, where she was seated under the royal tent. "But this day I also dedicate to Daenerys Targaryen, a woman of another world, but who has come to call our world her own. For she has proven her loyalty and benign nature, when she and her dragons saved her guards and myself from a dire fate in the hands of the orcs." At that Amdiron and Bregedir cheered from their seats, and Daenerys blushed. "To express my deepest gratitude, I have revoked her exile and welcomed her back in my Halls, as she deserved. Daenerys, come forth, if you may", he called to her. She rose and walked to him, and bowed low before him. "Rise now, for I have a gift for you." He produced a circlet from his robes, and it was fine and made of silver and beset with a single amethyst. She gasped, for she had not anticipated it, and inclined her head. Thranduil placed the circlet upon her silver head, and it gleamed brilliantly. "This is Edhelvir, the elf-jewel. With this gift I also bestow upon you the title of Elvellon, Elf-friend. May you be known as such, and let it never be disputed", he concluded.

The crowd burst in loud applause and cheers, and Daenerys looked around with a smile and tears in her eyes, deeply moved. The King stood beside her and watched her with a small smile. His heart longed to share her joy, but he knew it could not be; she had turned from him, and there seemed to be nothing left to be reclaimed. Leaving her to enjoy her moment, he returned to his pavilion, and took his seat at the long table.

"That was beautifully done, Adar", Legolas said, filling his father's glass with wine.

Thranduil nodded and smiled briefly, but could not tear his eyes from Daenerys, who was now receiving compliments and flowers from the gathered elves. The minstrels began playing sweet music and singing summer songs, and the atmosphere in the gardens was one of revelry and joy.

A while later Daenerys came back to her appointed seat of honor, and she was holding an armful of flowers. "What am I supposed to do with all these?" she wondered audibly as she sat, carefully freeing her arms from their load and laying the flowers on the table.

"You could make my father several new crowns, for starters!" Legolas jested.

Daenerys laughed spontaneously, but Thranduil tried to look serious, although the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "Do not be silly, Legolas…" he murmured.

He gave Daenerys a side-glance then, and she met his eyes. But discomfort came over her, and she lowered her gaze. A servant came then and filled her cup, and soon the first dishes arrived. All was exquisite and delicious, and Thranduil tried to enjoy the food, although he felt he had no appetite. For memories of the winter-feast had come to his mind, and he remembered how she had leaned against him and slept on his shoulder before the fireplace. Then their love had been young and innocent. But afterwards it became tainted with mistrust and rejection, and he doubted Daenerys felt anything more than respect for him now. And perhaps it was only his position as King that she revered, and not himself for who he was. She lived in his Halls, was under his power, she depended on him; of course she had to show respect and behave accordingly. But she did not love him, or she would not have fled from him without a word of explanation. And he felt angry and hurt, for he had revealed himself to her, he had shown her his hideous scars and opened his heart to her, but she had been afraid to accept all that and love him in return.

"Daenerys, shall we dance?" Legolas asked her, offering to take her hand.

The Prince's smooth voice brought a smile to her face. "It would be an honor, my lord", she replied, and took his hand.

The Elvenking watched as his son led her to the square, and there they mingled with the other dancing elves. His eyes lingered upon her form, soft and curvaceous beneath the fine material of her gown, which was deep blue and adorned with silver thread, making her look like a star in the night sky. And her loose tresses caressed her shoulders as she danced, and glimmered under the light of the lanterns. She possessed not the grace of an elleth, neither was her beauty ethereal and intangible, but she moved with a dynamism and an authority of her own, like a true Queen of men. He watched her mesmerized, safe in the knowledge that her attention was on Legolas. But at one moment as she turned, her eyes met his, deep pools of amethyst, like the jewel on her forehead, and the depths of his own eyes trembled, and the corners of his lips turned down in a frown of frustration. He tore his eyes from hers, and downed the content of his goblet.

But Daenerys was no fool, and she perceived his distressed state. She suspected that beneath the cold and collected surface he burned for her, but was at war with himself, trying to sort his conflicted feelings. And so she returned her gaze to the Prince, and kept on dancing.

The hours passed merrily for the feasting elves, and the music and wine and food were aplenty. But now, as the night settled and the silver stars shone brightly in the sky, the elves began to scatter in the gardens. Some played games of hide and seek, and others had pre-organized treasure-hunting games, and now, under the veil of darkness, it was time for them to play. But there were others, young couples mostly, who sought a corner away from the crowd, to share kisses and exchange vows of love. Legolas was stolen away by a red-haired elleth, whose emerald eyes and bright smiles had rendered the Prince unable to deny her anything, much to the disapproval of his father. "She is a childhood friend, ada, nothing more", he had reassured him, but Thranduil only shook his head and quirked an eyebrow. Still, he did not object to his son running away with the elleth tonight, and he seemed oddly quiet. All he did was return to his glass, only to find it empty, and move to refill it once more.

But Daenerys gripped the handle of the flagon first, and he looked at her with a startle. "My lord, is that wise? You have drunk too much…"

He raised his chin and took the flagon nonetheless. "Are you counting my cups of wine, Daenerys?"

"No, of course not, but…" she sighed. It was not her place to question his habit. Instead, she chose to change the subject. "Who was that elleth? A friend of Legolas', perhaps? I have not seen her before…"

Thranduil grunted. "She is a Captain in the Guard, and has been friends with Legolas since both were children… You have not seen her because she only recently returned from her banishment", he replied grumpily.

"Banishment? What did she do?"

He turned to face her, and his eyes were hard as steel. "She threatened my life."

Daenerys stood dumbfounded. How was it ever possible for an elf to threaten to take the life of another, and their King at that? During her time with the elves, she had learned that for the elves kinslaying was considered the most heinous crime, an unforgivable one. "But… why?" she uttered.

He shook his head, turning his attention back to his wine, and took a generous sip. "It is a long and unpleasant story", he said, obviously unwilling to share said story.

"But you forgave her, since she is here", Daenerys deduced.

"I did, for the sake of my child, who loves her like a blind fool." He downed the rest of his wine and refilled the goblet at once.

"We are all fools when it comes to love…" she murmured, but instantly regretted her words. What had come upon her, to speak of love to Thranduil?

"Yes, we are. And the biggest fool is I", he scoffed, and stood from the table, taking his cup along as he paced away into the shadows, away from the feast.

"My lord?" she called to him, but he did not turn to look at her. She sprang from her seat then and ran after him, for he walked with quick, long strides. "My lord!" she called again, and at last he stopped and turned to face her.

"What do you want, Daenerys? Can I not have a moment of solitude?"

He sounded weary rather than angry, and the look in his eyes broke her heart. "You are unwell, I can see that", she said.

He sighed and turned his back to her, hanging his head and abandoning his goblet on the marble bench beside him. "You should return to the celebration. It is in your honor, and you will be missed."

"I do not care", she said in defiance. "I would rather be here, with you."

The words came unbidden through her lips, and the path she was now treading on caused her heart to race. He looked at her from over his shoulder. Her eyes were intense and glazed over with unshed tears. "Why?" he asked.

"I owe you an explanation", she said, taking a step closer to him.

He turned to her then, but a deep frown was upon his brow. "It is too late for that."

"It is not."

His great height loomed above her now. "You vanished without a word."

"I did."

"And you refused to talk to me the day after… You grew cold and distant, and I was wondering what had happened. I was asking myself what I had done wrong, to scare you away like that…" he spoke, and his voice sounded on the verge on breaking.

"You did nothing wrong."

"Then what was it, Daenerys? You said you owe me an explanation, so let us hear it", he challenged her, looking down at her intently.

She did not remove her eyes from his. "I was afraid…"

"Afraid of what?" he asked impatiently.

"Afraid to love you! I realized I was one tiny step from loving you, and fear paralyzed me. I did not want to have to let go of you. I did not want to suffer loss. I did not want to bond with you, when my true purpose was to return to my world", she confessed, tears now silently marking their trails on her cheeks.

She turned from him, breathless and upset, not ready to face his reaction. "You retreated out of fear, that much I had gathered", he muttered. "And I understand your reasons. However, this does not mean I did not feel hurt and betrayed, when I had bared myself to you. And I had promised you I would be patient. I did not deserve such behavior", he went on in a low, calm voice, which bore sadness and not wrath. "You should have trusted me, you should have spoken to me of your fear. And I would have never put pressure on you, Daenerys. But you chose to shun me and leave me in the dark instead."

"Can you not forgive me?" she whispered, attempting to reach for him with her fingertips.

But he drew back. "You have my forgiveness, if that will put your heart at ease", he responded almost nonchalantly. "I have forgiven much worse crimes as it is", he mused.

He turned to leave then, and picked up his goblet from the bench. "Do you not care anymore?" she asked him with dread in her heart for what his answer might be.

"It does not really matter, since you never wanted to care."

He vanished into the darkness, leaving her alone, to cry her bitter tears of regret.

* * *

The night was well in its course and the celebration had ended, when Daenerys decided to take the grand step and headed for the King's chambers. When she reached the carved oaken doors, she paused and took a deep breath, trying to steady the frantic beat of her heart. She knocked then twice, and waited for a response.

The door was unlocked and opened then, and Thranduil's silver-blue eyes gazed down at her. "What do you want?" he hissed unceremoniously, looking as if he had half-expected her visit.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I love you."

He was taken aback. "What?"

"I love you!" she cried.

His brow furrowed. "I do not believe you", he spat, and made to shut the door at her face.

But she grabbed his wrist forcefully. "You will listen to me!"

Her authoritative tone made him recoil a bit. He freed his hand from her grasp and drew back, putting some distance between them. "What more have we to say?"

She walked into his chambers and took a deep breath to calm her raging temper. She knew that shouting and arguing would lead them nowhere, and would only make things worse. "Can we speak civilly, please?" she asked of him.

He regarded her for a moment, and then he denoted his assent with a nod of his head. "I hear you."

"It took all my courage to walk to your chambers tonight", she began.

"And it was a very audacious thing to do", he remarked sternly.

"I know. But earlier in the garden I was not ready to talk, and you would not listen. I could not go to bed when the burden of my heart was so heavy. I had to see you, and tell you that I love you", she spoke solemnly.

"You insist!" he exclaimed in indignation. "What hope you to gain by telling me this lie is beyond me", he muttered grimly.

"What I hope to gain?" she repeated his words, her turn now to feel insulted. "I hope to gain nothing! Only your love, if your heart has not frozen over already", she retorted.

His frown deepened. "Now that all your hopes of returning to your world are lost, you come to me and say to me that you love me. How can you expect me to believe that? For it seems to me it is consolation you seek, and not love."

"I will not be called a liar", she said and lifted a threatening finger towards him. "But I see you are resolved in your views. I thought you knew me better than this; I thought you believed in me, and you trusted me, but I was wrong", she said, sounding disappointed.

"I did trust you. I chose to trust you against all odds, when everyone was against you, and thank the Valar I was not wrong about you not being evil. But opening my heart to you was a mistake. I trusted my most intimate thoughts and truths to you, and you betrayed that trust. You ran without a word", he told her, his voice now laden with a mixture of emotions.

"It must always come to that, then", she concluded. "That I ran away. Yes, Thranduil, I ran. I was scared. I was a coward. I admit it. But is it such an unforgivable crime?" she burst out, and tears ran from her eyes, though she had not wished to look weak in front of him.

"I have granted you my forgiveness", he reminded her.

"Only in words! And it is not enough!" she cried.

"What else do you want?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, his eyes of icy fire bearing hard into hers.

"I want what you deny me now." She placed her palms on his chest as he held her. "I have hurt you, I know. I should never have hurt you. But I thought of myself first, I was selfish. I wanted to protect myself from being hurt again, and I thought that detaching myself from you was the answer. You deserved an explanation, you are right. I should have been honest with you from the start… but I was not. But, you must know, and please believe me when I say it, I cherish all you have given me. I am not as unworthy and ignoble as you have come to think me to be. Is it now too late? Has your heart turned from me?"

He watched her as she spoke, and something broke inside him. A tear ran from his good eye, as every trace of anger disappeared. "I do not know…"

His grip of her softened, and she stepped forth, closing the distance between their bodies. "Thranduil…" she whispered his name softly, and wiped his tear away. "Do you not love me?"

He looked at her with all the sadness of the world. "Daenerys, Daenerys…" he breathed, and his hand cupped her cheek softly. "You are not ready to hear it."

Her gaze flickered. "I am not? But I have confessed my love for you."

He shook his head gently. "Your heart is in turmoil. And men often speak things in haste, or out of despair. You are not ready yet."

She cast her eyes low, a wave of sheer dismay washing over her. She had not expected to be rejected in this way. She had thought he would accept her love in the end, and profess his own. But she was wrong…

She slowly retreated from his embrace, feeling cold inside. "So, you still do not believe me", she said bleakly, her voice barely audible.

"We shall speak again of this, when the time is right", he replied, evading her question.

"And when will this time be?"

"You will know it, when it comes. I am patient. You should be, too", he advised her.

She turned from him, utterly hopeless and dejected, and hastily wiped her tears away. Her brave effort had been in vain. She had spoken to him of her love, overcoming her own fears, and he did not believe her. He thought her feeble and childish, and her words held little gravity for him. "This was a mistake", she murmured.

He approached her and touched her hair. "Daenerys, sweet child…"

"I am not a child!" she cried in frustration, batting his hand away.

But there it was again, his hand touching the side of her head. "You are not…" He caressed her temple. "And yet you are", he said enigmatically. "Do not misinterpret my words tonight. I am not shunning you, and neither am I turning you down. It is my heart's fondest desire to have your love, but it must be true, and given in earnest. Do not go to your bed with tears upon your beautiful face," he spoke softly, and brushed away what tears remained on her cheeks. "Let your heart be calm, and free of pain. I would never wish you to hurt on my behalf…"

She returned her violet gaze to him. "And what of you? All these days you have been walking around like a ghost, a permanent frown has etched itself upon your face, and you never smile… You always look so sorrowful and grim, like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Am I the reason for all of this? Have I truly caused you so much pain?" she asked him in dread.

He sighed, and walked away, pacing towards the window. A light breeze blew on his face, and he closed his eyes, allowing it to cool his forehead. "I will not deny that much of my grief has to do with you… But a King has many things to consider, as you will learn one day, when you will become Queen of your people…" his voice trailed off.

"That will never come to pass", she told him sullenly. "I can never go back. I am no Queen. I have never been anything more than a pawn in the hands of the powerful."

He glanced at her. "Forgive me. The scroll had slipped off of my mind, and I did not mean to remind you of your fate, which now seems to be bound to this world."

She shook her head. "I have accepted that truth, and although it grieves me, it cannot be changed. I will live my life here, not as a Queen, but as a simple woman", she said quietly.

He turned to her. "You are not a simple woman, Daenerys. You are a Queen at heart. You have walked through flames unburnt, you are the mother of dragons. And I owe you my life; I will never forget that. It is not titles that make us what we are, but deeds, and the quality of our character."

She gave him a small smile. "Your words soothe my heart", she told him softly. But then her gaze became stern. "And yes, I saved your life. And I demand that you take care of it, and not disregard it as if it is unimportant. I never again want to hear you say you long for death. Life is precious, it is a gift, and it is not to be thrown away."

He walked to her and smiled down at her. "Your moments of wisdom make you even dearer to me. See, I told you, you are a child, and yet you are not."

They peered deep into each other's eyes for a long time, content to simply exist in each other's presence. "It was not a mistake, after all", Daenerys mused.

"What?"

"Coming to you tonight. I feel we have managed to reconnect, and have understood each other", she replied.

He nodded. "My heart feels lighter now. A burden has been lifted."

Her fingers played with the silken strands of his hair, and then traced the left side of his face. It looked flawless. "Drop the glamor", she asked of him, all of a sudden.

"What?"

"You heard me. Drop the glamor. I would have the real you. No more secrets, no more lies. No more fear", she spoke with confidence.

It always made him uneasy to present his true self, and he seldom did. "Are you sure?" he asked with reluctance evident in his tone.

"Of course", she answered with a reassuring smile. But she could see that he still struggled to accept himself as he was, even though thousands of years had passed.

The glamor gradually faded then, and his horrible scars came into view. One bright eye gazed back at her, and a blind one stared into nothingness. She brought her hand to caress his ugly side again. "You keep the glamor on even when you are alone in your room…" It was not a question, but a conclusion.

"Yes…"

"Do you hate yourself, Thranduil? Do you hate your image when you look in the mirror?" she asked him tenderly, her caress never ceasing.

He took a shaky breath. "Sometimes", he admitted. "But I always see the scars, even when the glamor is on. I know who I am, there is no hiding from the truth", he told her solemnly.

"The scars do not define who you are."

"But they have shaped me into who I am. They are part of me, as much as my beating heart", he responded, and took her hand and laid it upon the place of his heart.

"I love you, scars and all", she whispered to him, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating to her palm through the thin material of his summer robes.

One corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I told you not to be hasty with these words…"

"I will repeat them to you until you believe me", she said defiantly.

"And what if it takes a long time?" he teased her.

"Oh, it will not, for you will soon see that I mean them. But still, I will wait", she answered, her hands dropping now to his.

"These words must not be spoken lightly", he warned her in a more serious tone.

She peered deep into his eyes. "I know."

Daenerys let go of his hands then, and took a step back. "Thank you, Thranduil", she told him, smiling. "Thank you for letting me reach you at last. Our separation has been a constant pain in my heart", she whispered.

"The pain has been too great for me as well. But it is lesser now. I will sleep in peace tonight", he said, looking at her lovingly.

"So will I, my love. So will I."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The weeks of summer went by quickly, like the flowing waters of the Anduin. For one thinks time passes so fast, when the weather is fine and the sky is blue and rainless, whilst endless seem the nights of winter cold. But now autumn came, and the bright sun began to wane, and the hot days gave their place to mellow afternoons, which Thranduil and Daenerys often liked to spend in each other's company. Sometimes they would sit in the balcony and sip their tea, or she would teach him High Valyrian, and other times they would wander in the forest. And they would talk of this or that, sharing their stories and their experiences, and each day that passed they felt closer to each other. Daenerys had also returned to the herbal garden, and there she continued her apprenticeship under Doronith, cultivating her newly-discovered inner healing skill.

One such sweet afternoon they went into the forest, and Daenerys had also released Rhaegal to fly and hunt. The dragons were grown, and soon they would have to make their abode outside the Halls and upon the hill, as the Elvenking had suggested. Now Drogon looked like a proper dragon, with massive wings, a long tail, a strong neck and even stronger jaws. His roar shook the foundations of the caverns, and his size was far greater than any known living creature, save perhaps the great Mumakil of the Haradrim, which was taller and denser, but the dragon was more serpentine and far deadlier. And Drogon's brothers were only slightly smaller than he was, and all three dragons seemed to be insatiable in their hunger for flight and freedom and hunt. Their mother considered them adolescent now, fit perhaps to be ridden, if they would submit, but still immature to be ridden to battle. But in her heart she knew the time she would at last ride Drogon – for he was the one she shared the keenest bond with – would not be far off now. And what a great sight it would be, for a Targaryen to ride her dragon, so many years after the great dragonriders of the past.

"Indeed, it would be a breathtaking sight", Thranduil affirmed, when she told him of her desire. "You would be the lady of the skies, upon the black dragon's back…"

She smiled up at him. "Nearly a year has passed since you found me, and then little Drogon used to perch on my shoulder. But the time when I sit on his will not be too long now."

"You dream of flying him, do you not?" he asked her, looking deep into her eyes.

"My dream is so fond and vivid, as an elf's desire to sail west and meet his loved ones again. Now that he is so grown, I think of little else when I visit the dragons", she replied.

Thranduil glanced at the circlet upon her head. It was the one he had gifted her on Midsummer's Eve, Edhelvir, silver with a single gem of amethyst bound to the front. "Perhaps I should have a dragon-crown fashioned for you", he suggested, and his eyes twinkled.

She laughed. "I would love it."

"Consider it done, then. It shall be my next gift to you", he promised her.

"And what gift am I to give to you?" she asked in turn.

"No gift I wish for but one", he answered in a deep voice.

Her lips parted slightly, but then she smiled sweetly. "You have that gift already, if you accept it."

He then took her hand in his. "Your heart has grown calmer and steadier, that much I can tell. But you must be certain that you wish to truly bond with me, like you are bonded with your dragons…"

"With the dragons?" she wondered.

"Yes, for the true bond is deep and real and unbreakable", he answered her in a serious tone.

 _He fears I might hurt him in the future. He fears my heart may one day turn from him and love another. But I am a woman, and he is an ellon. We love, but will always be different in our ways._ And then suddenly the truth dawned on her, and she squeezed his hand. "Thranduil", she started by calling him name with great tenderness, "it is not I who is not ready for love. It is you."

Her unexpected words made his brow furrow. "Why do you say so?"

"You wish for love eternal. You wish for proof that nothing will ever change, and that we shall never be parted." She shook her silver head. "But you wish for something that can never be. I can never give you what you seek, for I cannot love in the ways of the elves. You are afraid… You do not wish to suffer loss and disappointment again, and I understand that. But I cannot speak to you as an elleth would. I am human. Our hearts are less constant, and may change. But that is part of who we are. Our lives are short, and if we do not adapt to change, we perish. But that does not mean we cannot love truly. Did not Beren love Lúthien truly? Was he feeble? But she knew he was a man, and prone to change. That did not stop her from accepting and returning his love, though doomed it might have seemed then, for she chose to take the risk. And she was not wrong. Their love is fabled." She looked into his eyes, and there was sorrow and pain in them. "Do you understand what I mean to tell you?"

He slowly nodded. "I do", he murmured, realized there was truth in her words.

"Am I wrong?" She touched his face gently.

"No… No you are not. I am afraid, I confess that. My wife was taken from me… And I never believed I would love again, for it is extremely rare for an elf to love another. But it came to be, against all odds. Perhaps you are right, perhaps I fear to trust to this new love, perhaps I fear that it will, too, be snatched from my hands…" he sighed, casting his eyes low.

"And you keep your heart guarded", she went on for him. "I lost a husband, whom I loved, Thranduil. But I moved on, never looking back, for if you look back to the past, it will hold you in its grip forever, and you will be lost. And I fell in love again. Why will you not let your heart be free and open to this love of ours?"

He smiled a bitter smile, cupping her cheek softly. "You said it yourself, Daenerys. You are a woman and I am an ellon. We are different in the ways of our love. It may be natural for a human to receive the love of another, but for an elf, after their One has passed, it is extremely difficult to acknowledge the love of another as true", he explained.

She peered deep into his starlit eyes. "I can only ask you to listen to the deepest song of your heart, and trust me. Will you take this risk with me?" she asked of him.

"I do trust you, I do…" he whispered.

She could sense doubt in his tone. "But?"

He looked away, to the shimmering waters of the forest stream in the distance. "I must find the courage within me, to overcome my fears and qualms. I thought you were not ready to receive my love, but now I see it is I who is afraid to receive yours, and trust to it wholly."

She came and lightly touched his arm. "Then we shall both be patient with each other", she murmured, and her eyes shone.

He smiled then, and lowered his face upon hers. "May I kiss you?"

She cupped his face and gazed at him lovingly. "Of course…"

He drew her in his arms then, and his lips touched hers softly and tentatively, for he had not kissed her in months, and his heart beat like a drum in anxiety. But she would not rush either, and allowed their lips to brush in an intimate caress, relishing the feeling of him in her embrace again, and his lips upon hers.

"Oh, how I have missed you…" she whispered breathily.

"Yes, yes…"

His lips found hers again then, and were more eager this time. The kiss began as chaste and innocent, but soon desire was ignited in them both, and their mouths opened to each other, allowing their tongues to twine in the dance of passion. Thranduil had missed her scent and her taste, and he felt lost now in everything that was Daenerys.

"Come with me…" he whispered, and gestured towards the stream.

A mischievous smile curled her lips. "What are you suggesting, my lord?"

"I would enjoy the cool waters of the stream with you on this warm afternoon."

His voice had been low and seductive, and she found she could not resist him. She nodded her consent, and he took her by the hand and led her to the riverbank. The water was not deep, barely reaching to the knee, and the current was weak. Removing their shoes, Thranduil rolled up his breeches and Daenerys lifted the hem of her gown as they stepped in, and he held her, careful not to let her slip on the treacherous rounded rocks of the riverbed.

"Oh, it is pleasantly cool", she chimed, feeling the soreness dissipating from her feet, for they had walked much, and she had begun tiring.

Thranduil smiled. He felt no fatigue, but the sight of relief on her face made his heart soar with fondness for her. She stepped up to him them, and threw her arms around his shoulders, abandoning the dress to the water. He held her to him, and bent his face to kiss her lips. She gave in eagerly, and her fingers tangled in his long strands. His arms tightened around her back, and he lifted her with ease from the ground, and sat her on a flat rock. The light breeze that blew made her dress dance around her body, and the caress of the wind combined with her excitement made her nipples harden. The Elvenking gazed down at her aroused body, and took in every inch of the sight she posed. His eyes glided unhurriedly down her throat and lingered upon her chest, and then below to her thighs, where the gown had been wetted and rumpled and exposed a good portion of her white skin. He grasped her legs then and prompted her to spread them for him. She did that with a gasp, and watched his hands transfixed, as they touched her knees and gradually moved upwards, drawing the hem of the gown along as they went. He pushed it to her hips, until her most private spot was exposed. Uneasiness crept in her then, to sit thus naked before him. But he made not to touch her, and his fingers dug in her hips, restraining himself from crossing the point of no return.

She sensed his agitation and said, "What is it? Why have you stopped?"

He took a shaky breath. "If I touch you, I know not whether I will be able to stop."

"Touch me, Thranduil. I want you to touch me."

He claimed her lips again then, and she drew him close by the lapels of his tunic. His own arms slid to her hips and her backside, and he pressed himself against her with a moan. His voice and the feeling of his hardened member trapped between her legs drove her mad with desire. Her fingers went to the front of his breeches then, and there traced the outline of his manhood, causing him to gasp and shiver in her arms. "Daenerys… you will be the end of me", he rasped amidst his gasps.

She gazed at his flushed face, and smiled smugly, reveling in the fact that she was the cause of his arousal. "I love the sight of you in your hour of desire", she whispered in his ear, and gave a gentle squeeze to his front. _The lessons Doreah once gave me have not gone to waste,_ she thought with amusement.

He gripped her hips tightly then and his hands crept underneath the hem of her dress, feeling now her bare skin beneath his palms. "You came to me naked", he murmured.

Her brow creased in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"You were naked among the ashes when I found you upon my path…" he told her, and his fingers left her hip and slid now over her chest, "cradling three newborn dragons on your breast. I will never forget that sight, your otherworldly violet eyes as they gazed back at me in fear and question, your sweet form crouched upon the ground."

"Then the memory will forever be shared", she said, "for I will never forget the tall, silver lord that came to my rescue that day."

They both smiled, and their arms joined in a warm embrace, drawing their bodies together. Their fronts made contact then, and she clung to him, tightening her things around his hips. She could feel his clothed manhood grazing at her womanhood. "It is love confessed", she told him.

He drew a little back, so as to look into her eyes. "Is it?"

"Will you deny me now what I want?" she challenged him, as her hand crept low on his abdomen, her fingers barely touching him again through the material of his breeches.

But he had not the chance to answer, for heavy rustling was heard from the bushes by the riverside. Thranduil's keen elven ears caught the sound at once, and his eyes darted towards it. "What was this?" he said, alarmed.

"What was what?" Daenerys asked in puzzlement.

But then the rustling was heard again, and the Elvenking disentangled himself from her embrace and jumped out of the stream. "Hide behind the rock", he instructed her, and she crouched, the water now drenching her up to her midriff. He gathered his sword from where he had placed it upon the ground, and noiselessly drew it from its sheath. With slow steps he approached the bushes, holding his breath as he went. But as he made to inspect the thorny branches, a foul smell assaulted his senses. "Orcs!" he yelled, and drew back. At once a dozen orcs sprang from their hiding place, wielding their vile weapons. They came against the King, who defended himself efficiently against the sudden attack. Then one of the orcs sounded a horn, and Daenerys watched in terror as another dozen orcs came running through the trees, led by a tall, large one, who looked to be their leader.

Seeing now Thranduil surrounded and pressed from all sides, dismay took over her. She stepped forth from behind the rock and climbed on top of it, her eyes now searching the sky for signs of the green dragon. "Rhaegal!" she called his name. "Rhaegal!" she yelled again frantically.

Thranduil glanced at her in worry. "Daenerys! Run!" he shouted. But the orcs had seen her as well, and a few of them broke off and hurried towards her.

Daenerys stood there and watched the monsters approach her in terror. "Rhaegal!" she screamed on top of her lungs one last time, but there was no sign of the green dragon.

Then the large orc stepped forth. "No dragon will save you now!" he mocked them. "Seize them both. Our Masters will be happy for such a gift", he commanded now his orcs.

Overpowered as he was, the orcs grabbed Thranduil by the elbows and kicked him to the ground, taking his sword away and hitting him on the head to make him lose conscience. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his eyes, blurring his vision, and his head buzzed and ached horribly, but he did not faint. The orcs dragged Daenerys from the river, too, and threw her down beside the Elvenking. Then they bound their wrists and ankles and carried them unceremoniously into the woods. Her dress was caught in the thorns and it ripped, but the orc was angered, and dragged Daenerys violently along. The sharp branch cut into her thigh, and she cried in pain. Thranduil glanced at her through his haze, but could only mutter her name.

After a while the orcs came to a small camp, where more of their kind waited. Ruckus arose when the prisoners were presented, and they yelled and grunted unintelligible things in Black Speech. Some curious ones came and prodded Daenerys, pinching her and lifting her dress and pulling at her hair, and she screamed and kicked and spat at them, until she was slapped hard across the face and was forced into silence. Thranduil's fate was not gentler, as the orcs hated elves with a passion. He was beaten again, and his bonds prevented him from fighting back as he would have wished.

But then the leading orc came and shoved aside the others. "They are not to be harmed!" he barked. "Put them on the cart now. We must leave!"

Orcs went and unloaded some sacks from a cart, and upon it pushed their captives, now bound together back-to-back for greater restriction of movement. They tied a huge ox to the cart then, and the orcs were soon ready to depart. They marched in single file, and the cart went to the middle of their line. Daenerys lifted her eyes and saw the sun setting to her right as they went. "We are moving south", she whispered. "Where are they taking us?"

Thranduil shifted and grunted in aggravation. "Dol Guldur."

"What?" she hissed.

"The leader spoke of their Masters. They are taking us to Dol Guldur", he repeated.

Daenerys had heard countless times of that dark and ominous place, but never dreamed to visit it. Evil dwelled and bred there, and the Lieutenants of Sauron, the terrible Nazgûl, held command of the fortress. The elves used to say the sun never shone there, and the black towers were always overhung with leaden clouds. Nothing grew there, and the ground was sown with thorns and bare rocks.

"Silence!" an orc yelled, and hit their legs with a whip. Both of them were barefoot, their shoes abandoned by the riverbank, and the lash stung awfully.

As soon as he walked off, Daenerys murmured, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I think so… And you? Your leg?"

She glanced at the thorn gash high on her thigh. The blood had dried, but it still pained her somewhat. Thranduil had taken the worst of the whip's blow, so her feet hurt a little less. "The pain is bearable", she answered frankly.

"If I could heal you…"

"No. Preserve your strength", she insisted in a steady voice.

They both fell silent then, espying the orc with the whip just ahead of the cart. They need not provoke his anger further. Then Daenerys searched the skies again for signs of Rhaegal. _Where is he? What have they done to him? No, they cannot have killed him. He would have roasted them alive first. Oh, my child, where are you? Where are you now that I need you?"_

Hours later the orcs made camp for the night. They bound their captives to a tree, and lit fires to cook their food. Thranduil saw them throwing chopped pieces of slimy, dark meat into a huge pot, along with roots and other nameless things. Soon it began boiling, and a rancid odor filled the air. "Are they going to serve us this as well?" he muttered under his breath.

Daenerys looked over to the pot with disgust. "I would never eat that. It smells horribly", she commented.

"And it probably tastes even worse…" he added.

But when dinnertime came, a short, square orc approached them and tossed them two slices of grey, maggoty bread. When he saw their frowns and looks of appalment, he huffed. "What? Did you think we were going to serve you our delicious broth? You fools!" he laughed, and laughed, and laughed as he walked away from them.

Thranduil watched the orc with bottomless hatred, feeling his blood boil with rage. Then he glanced at the bread. "Best if we do not eat this either", he said.

Beside him Daenerys nodded and sighed. "We must find a way to free ourselves", she whispered.

"But how? They have confiscated my sword, and I saw them taking your dagger as well. We have nothing to cut our bonds with", he replied.

She sunk against the trunk of the tree, inwardly cursing the vile orcs. "I am worried about Rhaegal", she muttered a while later. "He did not answer my calls."

"He was probably hunting far away from us. He is a dragon, Daenerys… There is no way the orcs could have ever truly harmed him", the King tried to reassure her. "And by now our absence has surely been noted. Search parties will soon be sent out. We must trust to hope that our people will find us", he said, trying to sound confident.

That much Daenerys could believe. Legolas and the councilors would not remain idle. Perhaps it would not be too long before they heard the elven horns and saw the flashes of the elven swords cutting through the orcs.

"I wonder why they did not kill us", she spoke after a while.

"We are useful to their Masters, I think. Perhaps they think to use us to threaten my realm, and gain favorable terms for themselves. Or they may think to ransom us for a great prize… I do not know", he sighed, feeling numb and tired now. His head still ached, and although the cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding, the blood was now dried and caked and it hindered his already hindered vision. To the various cuts and bruises all over his body he paid little heed, but they pained him every time he tried to move a little.

"Are you hurting?" she asked him in concern.

"A little", he admitted. "You?"

"Not really… But my dress is torn and damp, and I am cold", she told him.

"I wish I could take you in my arms and warm you…" he lamented.

Daenerys took a breath, and then snuggled to Thranduil's side, trying to steal some of his warmth. But then a horrid thought suddenly crossed her mind, and she lifted her face. "Thranduil", she began, "am I in danger of being raped?"

Her voice was filled with horror and dread, and it tore his heart apart. "No, I think not… The orcs hate and detest us. They are base creatures, but they do not possess the minds and urges of men. They might hit you some, but they will not touch you in that way", he answered her, and his words soothed her worry a little.

"At least, this is some good news", she sighed in relief.

He nodded. "Our lives are not in danger, for now. The tall orc has forbidden them to damage us. We must calm our hearts and minds, watch them closely and bide our time for a chance of escape", he whispered to her, careful not to be heard by the orcs.

"Yes, yes you are right", she agreed.

"Lean on me and try to get some sleep. You need it. I will keep watch of them", he told her.

"Will you not rest?" she protested.

"I need sleep far less than you do. I can endure many hours without sleep, but you must replenish your strength. Rest, my sweet love, and think not of the vile world, if only for a few hours", he spoke to her softly.

His voice was like balm on her heart. She readjusted her position as best she could, and laid her head on his shoulder. At first she worried that sleep would never come, with all these orcs parading and grumbling all around them, but soon fatigue took over her, and she surrendered to a dreamless slumber. Beside her, Thranduil sighed when he felt her drift off. If only his son would not be too late.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Grunts and noise woke Daenerys, and she opened her eyes to see that the sun had not yet risen. The darkness was still thick, and only far to the east had the black started to turn into a pallid blue-grey. She tried to shift in her bounds, feeling sore from the prolonged immobilization against the tree-trunk, but her shoulder bumped into Thranduil's. He glanced at her and managed a small smile. "You are awake", he murmured.

"What is all this noise?" she wondered.

"The orcs are getting ready to depart", he answered. "Have you rested?"

She sighed. "A little, I think. Have you not slept at all?"

He shook his head. "No."

"And is there still no sign of the elves?"

"None."

Her spirits fell then, for she had hoped that Thranduil's people would soon discover them, but it was not to be. And there had been no sign of Rhaegal either. Daenerys hoped he had returned to the Halls, and tried to push all ill thoughts from her mind. She dreaded to think that something terrible might have befallen the green dragon.

"What have I missed while I slept?" she asked on.

"Nothing, really. The orcs ate some more, took turns watching us and patrolling the area, fought a little amongst themselves… and that was all", the Elvenking replied listlessly. "It will not be long before we leave now… We must not lose hope."

He said as much, but Daenerys could see that Thranduil felt no less dejected than she did. He wore a permanent frown on his face now, and his hair was matted with blood from the cut across his forehead. The small ringlets of blood had dried to a dark crimson on his skin, and he looked grim and tired. Taking a look at her own self, she seemed in no better condition. Her dress was dry now, but it was soiled and torn. There was caked mud on her feet, the wound on her thigh reminded her of its presence with occasional stabbing pain, and her hair was a mess of tangles.

Then the tall orc, who was the leader, came along with nigh a score of others. He barked some orders to them in their foul tongue, and the orcs hurried and cut the ropes that bound the captives to the tree. They pushed them to their feet and forced them to walk to the cart. Upon it they were bound again back-to-back, and just as the first rays of the autumn sun hit the ground did the unsightly procession begin on its journey south.

Hours passed as they went, and Thranduil and Daenerys kept mostly quiet, as the orc with the whip walked beside the cart and gave them surly looks and glowers whenever they made to whisper to each other, toying with the lash in his hands, seemingly eager to use it on them once more. But the leader had commanded them not to damage the captives, and so the orc could not act much upon his vile wishes.

"They are taking us through paths unknown", said Thranduil to Daenerys at some point, after they had marched deep into the forest.

"How do you know?" she asked, for all the trees looked the same to her, tall and dark and ominously looming above them, casting long shadows and rustling with the whispers in the wind.

"I know my kingdom well enough", he responded. "We seldom tread beyond the elven paths, unless we are on the hunt of foul creatures."

She peered around her again. The ground had turned rockier, and it was uneven. Uphill they went and then downhill, through crags and large clusters of rocks. Small streams ran here and there, and there was humidity in the air. The vegetation was so dense here that the light barely reached them _. There is no sight more foreboding of evil than a dark forest in a sunny morn_ , she mused, and a shudder coursed through her limbs. Thranduil felt her shiver, as she was bound against him, and worried. "Daenerys, are you alright? Are you cold?"

"No, I am not cold. But this place chills me to the bone", she sighed.

"The farther south they take us, the worse this feeling is going to become… Prepare yourself and steel your heart against it, for we do not yet know what awaits us in the gloomy glades of Dol Guldur", he told her in a low voice.

Images then of a place bleak and dreary formed in her mind. _How much worse?_ She inwardly wondered. Her eyes fell to the shadows of the trees then, and a realization came upon her. "We have turned east."

"Yes… I know not through which route they take us, but I suspect they wish to avoid the elven scouts", the King said.

Daenerys looked again up to the thick foliage that hid the sky and the sun from their sight. _In such a vast, dark and misty forest, even a dragon flying above will find much trouble spotting us,_ she thought despondently. _But if I heard a dragon's cry, if only I heard one such cry…_

"Halt! We are here!" a fat orc growled to those behind him, and the captives looked at him with question.

They slowed their pace then and came around some huge rocks. Behind them appeared a large orc camp, built behind the protection of a rocky wall to the north. Around it there were wooden palisades and spikes, while watchtowers stood to the east, south and west. The orc company approached the gates, and their kind came to meet them. After a few words had been exchanged, they went through the gate. As the cart passed below the wooden posts and planks that served as doorway, Thranduil could see there were archers posted on every watchtower. Inside, the orc camp looked like a labyrinth of tents, platforms, ladders and spikes. Orcs went here and there carrying weapons and weapon racks, pieces of armor, as well as pots and barrels. The noise was awfully loud, an offense to the ear, and the air was filled with their growls and grunts, and the sound of the hammer upon the anvil in the orcish forges. There was a foul stench in the air, which made Daenerys' stomach churn in disgust. They had not eaten anything the previous day, but what hunger she felt was soon gone, when she was forced to breathe that putrid air.

They were led uphill, and orcs laughed and spat at them as they passed them by, wielding their spears and clubs in the air, proclaiming the capture of the Elvenking a great victory for the orcs. And, one might say, they were not wrong. Thranduil fumed with rage and gritted his teeth at the insults thrown at him, but he knew there was nothing he could do now, and it would be unwise to provoke their fate. For, he surely was precious to them, a tool to bargain with, but Daenerys was not… and he feared that the orcs would think to use her against him, should he try to defy them.

More palisades they passed, and the place was lit with torches bound upon poles. There were also a few large fires burning, and black smoke rose in the air, mixing with the stench of the orcs and making the air suffocating for the two captives. At last they came in front of a wide tent, and from inside it came five large orcs, similar looking to the one leading the raiding party. Behind them a sixth orc followed, and he was the tallest and most gruesome of them all. He held a scepter, the head of which was a goat's skull, and bones hang from it, bound to leather strips.

"What have you brought me?" bellowed he, as he shoved the others aside and walked to the cart.

"Look for yourself", grunted the raid leader.

Some lesser orcs dragged the captives from the cart and threw them down before their leader's boots. He thrust his scepter under Thranduil's chin, forcing his head up. The Elvenking lifted his face, his eyes narrowing into slits, and looked at the orc with disgust and devoid of fear. Then the orc's look became one of surprise and utter glee. "Can it be the elf-king? Ha ha!" he roistered, lifting the goat skull up for all orcs to see, and soon everyone cheered and shouted with their leader. Thranduil hated every single moment of it. "The elf-king kneels!" the orc went on, and brought his scepter hard upon Thranduil's shoulder, forcing him to drop forward and brace himself on his hands. He grimaced in pain, but not a sound came through his parched lips. Daenerys glanced at him worriedly, but was wiser than to voice her mind.

"And who is that?" the leader then asked, as he grabbed Daenerys by the hair. "Another of the elf-folk?"

"No. She is human", answered the raid leader.

"A human? Pft. Useless", the tall orc responded with disdain, and pushed her down. "But maybe she will be tasty if we cook her with onions! Ha ha!"

"Man-flesh!" shouted one.

"It tastes better than elf-flesh!" yelled another.

"Man-flesh is my favorite! I want her with onions and carrots, to boil slow and sweet!" joined in a third.

The orcs burst in boisterous laughter then, and Thranduil clenched his fists in anger. Daenerys looked at the orcs, who planned her demise in the cooking pot, and seethed with wrath. _You will pay for this,_ she promised them, and her eyes burned with inner fire.

"Shut up all of you, morons!" growled their leader. "It was said in jest. They are not to be harmed, or the Masters will end us all! Touch them and I will kill you before they do, scum!" he threatened them.

The orcs grumbled then, but nobody spoke against their leader. They dispersed one by one, and the leader ordered his captains to bring the captives inside the large tent. They bound them to the central pole afterwards, and stood to attention.

"Have you fed them anything?" the leader asked.

"We gave them bread but they spat at it", grunted the raid captain.

"Give them food and water. This girl looks half-dead. Ha ha!" laughed the great orc. Then he went to Daenerys. "And who are you, girl?" he asked her, grasping her chin and inspecting her face closely. "Strange eyes have you. Tell me your name!" he bellowed.

Daenerys' brow furrowed in anger. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, and I swear to you, you will pay for this", she spoke back at him.

The orc laughed at her words, but then slapped her hard across the face. She felt dizziness claiming her and blood filling her mouth. She coughed a few times, and blood came through. Her lip had been torn, and blood trickled through and stained her dress.

"Do not touch her!" yelled the Elvenking.

The orc turned to him with suspicious eyes. "What is she to you, elf?" When Thranduil frowned but did not reply, the orc said, "Ah, so you care for the girl. Now this is news! The cold and cruel elf-king cares for someone. Ha ha!"

The orc's rude behavior vexed Thranduil greatly, but it was to be expected. The enmity between his people and the orcs was great, and they resented him for decimating their numbers with every given chance. Time and again they had tried to storm his Halls, only to result in utter failure. But now he was the one who had failed and was humiliated, and he could clearly see that the orcs enjoyed every minute of it.

"No laughter shall you have left when I slice your throat", hissed the Elvenking.

"Slice my throat? With what? Your sharp words? Ha ha!"

"Release me and you shall find out."

"Release you? Pft. I am no fool. You will stay in your bonds until the Masters return to Dol Guldur", the leader said.

 _Return? So, they are gone… to Mordor, perhaps?_ The King wondered. "Where are your Masters gone? Did the Dark Lord summon them?" he asked the orc, hoping he would be stupid enough to part with valuable information.

"The flames of war are upon you, elf-king! Our Masters do the bidding of the One!" the orc answered, proud to serve Sauron as it was.

 _So they have been summoned to Mordor indeed… We may still have hope to be rescued before we are taken to Dol Guldur._

Then another orc stepped into the tent, carrying two cups and two bowls for the prisoners. "Dinnertime!" he announced.

"How are we supposed to eat with our hands tied?" Daenerys protested.

The leader huffed in annoyance. "Cut their bonds! Hands only!" he commanded. "And take the girl away from the elf! Bind them separately! I do not want them conspiring during the night!"

As soon as she was free of her tethers and fed a spoonful of hideous broth and a gulp of water was forced down her throat, Daenerys was half-dragged to the northernmost pole of the tent and was bound there. Thranduil was bound to the southernmost pole, and the orc leader looked satisfied.

"Guard them!" he hissed to his servants, and then he went to the innermost chamber of the tent, followed by his captains.

"No more talking now!" grunted the orc guard, and he went to stand by the entrance.

Daenerys looked to where the Elvenking was bound. She could barely make out his figure in the darkness. Then she glanced outside, through the open entrance of the tent. It was utterly dark. _Night has fallen,_ she thought. _What will they do with us tomorrow?_ She was quite certain that Thranduil would be kept alive at any cost, but as for herself… what value held she to the orcs? And they were not the brightest creatures. Some foolish one might think to carve a piece of meat off of her bones. She could not take her chances.

"Hey!" she called to the orc. He looked at her grumpily. "Can you light me a fire? It is so cold in here, and your Masters would not want us to die from cold", she began.

 _What is she doing?_ Thranduil wondered, but preferred to keep his mouth shut.

The orc grunted, but piled a few logs at her feet. Then he grabbed the nearest torch and thrust it into the wood. They were dry and soon caught fire. As the flames licked at the wood and grew, Daenerys could feel the heat emanating from the fire reaching her toes, soothing them. "Good", she murmured, leaning against the pole and closing her eyes.

The guard saw that she was still and surmised she must be sleeping. Then he turned indifferently and went back to his post. The plans of the Masters meant little to him, but he would not question their will to keep the captives alive. If she needed warmth, then a small fire was no harm.

A few hours went by, and silence fell in the camp. Most of the orcs went to sleep, and a few remained awake to guard the rest. The guard in the main tent had slouched down by the entrance and was snoring soundly. From the inner compartment loud snores could also be heard. As soon as she was certain that everyone was asleep, Daenerys opened her eyes and glanced at the fire before her. It burned brightly, and its warmth filled her heart with courage. _If only it works…_

She carefully extended her feet then, reaching into the flames up to her ankles. The heat surrounded her, and the rope around her ankles took fire. Soon it withered and disintegrated into ash. Thranduil noticed her movement, and was astonished. "Daenerys!" he whispered. "What are you doing?"

"Hush, and trust me", she whispered back at him. She reached a little further then, straining against her bonds. The torn hem of her dress met the flames, and soon enough they licked it upwards, burning it off of her body inch by inch. But then the flames reached her back, and made contact with the wooden pole of the tent. Soon enough it caught fire too, and so did the rope that held her bound to it. Thranduil stared in awe, as Daenerys became a living torch, and everything burned slowly, until at last she was free of all bonds. Carefully she rose from the ground, and looked as the fire reached the top of the pole and touched the sheet of the tent. It went ablaze at once, and she watched the fire expand in fascination.

"Daenerys!" Thranduil hissed again.

She walked to him silent as a shadow. "I must set you free", she murmured.

"Our weapons are over there, on the rack by the entrance. Can you see them?"

She looked to where he told her, and quickly approached the rack and retrieved her dagger. But then the whooshing of the burning sheets and the loud cracking of the flames woke the orc guard, and he opened his eyes to see everything burning around him, and the human captive standing naked in front of him.

"Thank you for the fire", Daenerys told him. He made to shriek, but she silenced him by cutting his throat with her dagger. The orc gurgled and choked in his blood, and his body fell limply to the ground. Then she grasped the King's sword as well, and quickly cut his bonds. Thranduil leapt to his feet and took his sword in his hand. They exchanged a quick glance, and the fire of freedom and revenge burned in their eyes. "Now for the leaders", she said with determination.

The burning tent was noticed by the orcs who stood guard outside, and soon commotion arose in the camp. But Daenerys grasped a torch and stepped around the tent, touching its flaming head across the sheet as she went. Shouts of pain and horror she heard then from the second chamber, as the Elvenking had rushed in and felled orc after orc. Soon a ring of fire was lit, and she came to the entrance of the adjoining chamber. Thranduil was now fighting the last one of the captains, together with the gruesome orc leader. Daenerys walked inside and thrust the torch to a wooden pole, setting it ablaze.

"What is she doing? Witch!" yelled the leader frantically. But then the blazing sheet of the roof of the tent broke and collapsed, spreading the flames everywhere. Thranduil jumped to the side, agile as a cat, but the orc captain was clumsy, and was buried under the debris. Daenerys set fire to the remaining poles that held the large tent erect. "Witch! Witch!" yelled the leader, who was still trying to stand his ground against Thranduil. But the Elvenking was the better swordsman, and soon he cut a deep slash across the orc's belly. It dropped to its knees, spitting black blood now, as Daenerys walked to him, naked and unburnt through the flames.

"I promised you would pay", she whispered in a cold voice, thrusting the torch to his neck. She watched unfazed as he burned and shrieked in agony, taking pleasure in his death.

Thranduil beside her gripped her elbow. "We must go", he urged her. He cut through the sheet of the tent with his sword and leapt through, with Daenerys after him.

By the time the great tent was burnt to the ground, the orc camp was roused. The orcs ran frantically, gathering their weapons and looking for their captains. But there was none to put order to chaos, and the orcs were disorganized and unruly. Some rushed to the burnt tent, but Thranduil waited for them there, and dispatched them one by one, deadly in his blows. Daenerys picked up pieces of burning wood and used them as torches to set the palisades around the tent on fire, while the Elvenking staved off the orc attack. The light wind that blew helped the flames spread quickly, and soon more spikes and posts caught fire. The orcs cowered at the sight of the fire, and sought for water to put them out. But she continued with her work, stepping through the flames like a goddess of fire, and setting ablaze structure after structure, while the King fought close behind her, protecting her as she turned the orc camp into a burning inferno.

But then some orcs were clever enough to pick up their bows and climb to the platforms. One that was close sought for Daenerys through the flames and smoke, and aimed his arrow at her. Thranduil saw him just as he was ready to fire, and his face twisted in agony, and he shouted, "Daenerys! Watch out!"

She turned just in time to see the orc archer, perched atop a platform that still stood undamaged, as he loosened an arrow against her. She made to crouch, but the arrow lodged itself in her left shoulder. Searing pain caused her to drop to her knees, but by then Thranduil was beside her, and shielding her from the archer. As the orc readied himself for another shot, the Elvenking grabbed Daenerys' dagger from her hand and threw it forcefully against the orc. The arrow flew astray, as the dagger embedded itself in the orc's head, and he fell forward from the platform and onto the ground.

Thranduil turned to Daenerys anxiously. "Daenerys! You are hurt! Stay still!"

She gasped for breath. "We must fight…"

He glanced hurriedly around them. Orcs were approaching them from the west, running like mad amidst the flames. "We shall not die today", he hissed, as he rose, sword in hand, and renewed his attack against the orcs. Like a storm he was, and none managed to reach Daenerys, where she crouched behind him. But then another archer came, and after two shots that met no particular target, the third arrow found Thranduil just above the knee. He groaned, but did not allow for his rhythm to fail, and slew orc after orc. The archer loaded again, and was trying to get a clear shot through the crowd and the smoke, when a horn was sounded in the distance.

"Legolas!" Thranduil breathed.

The orcs heard the elven horn as well, and became even more panicked and disorganized. But then the blast of the horn was accompanied by another sound, and it was a loud roar from high up in the sky, deep and rumbling like cracking thunder. And just as dawn began to break, the shadow of wide wings covered the orcish camp, as the green dragon flew down from the clouds.

"Rhaegal!" cried Daenerys his name, with tears of relief in her eyes.

The dragon balanced himself mid-air, flapping his wings. He extended his long neck and his jaws parted, while his throat was illuminated by the newborn flames. Some orc archers tried to shoot him with arrows, but they only met his hard scales and were deflected. And then the dragon roared again, and rained bright fire upon the orcs, who met their death instantly. He landed then, and his teeth ripped the orcs apart wherever he met them. The elves then stormed the camp, and made quick work of the remaining foes. Wooden walls and palisades collapsed, and Rhaegal saw to burn whatever his mother had not already burnt.

Thranduil drew the arrow from his thigh, and then did the same for Daenerys. She cried in pain and clung to him. "Hush, hush, I will heal this…" he whispered to her, and murmured some healing spell, numbing her pain a little. But he was exhausted, and not a healer by nature, so he could not do much for her.

"Thranduil… it is alright", she rasped. "The elves are here."

"Yes… We are saved", he breathed. "You were so brave… Daenerys… what you did… You saved us", he whispered, as he held her face and looked at her intensely.

But her sight was bleary, and she shuddered. "Thranduil… I am cold…"

He made to cover her naked form with his cloak then, torn and filthy though it was, but then he noticed some blackening of her skin around the wound. The veins were visible and like black streams, and the odor was foul. "Poison!" he hissed in dismay, and repeated the healing spell a few times, trying to slow the course of the poison.

When he knew he had done all he could, he tore at his breeches, where the arrow had pierced him, and inspected his own wound. It looked somewhat irritated, but nothing like Daenerys' wound. _But I am an elf, and she is human. They cannot resist poison as we do._ "I must take you to the healers at once!"

She coughed and rasped, and held his cloak tightly around her. "Thranduil…" she murmured in a barely audible voice.

But then the elves reached them, and Legolas was leading them. "Adar!" he shouted, as he beheld his father. "Are you alright?"

"Daenerys needs a healer immediately!" he said in an imperative tone. "She took a poisoned arrow!"

"What?" The young elf's face looked worried as he saw Daenerys gasping for breath on the ground.

"Legolas! The healers!" the King cried in great urgency.

The Prince then stood and instructed some elves to carry her away from the battleground and treat her with athelas as soon as possible. They lifted her body carefully, and Thranduil made to stand and follow them, but his own wound caused him to grunt and drop to one knee.

"Father! You are injured, too!"

"Not as badly as she is. Help me walk out of here, Legolas", he breathed.

The elven force left then, after they had razed the orc camp to the ground. And Rhaegal took to the skies again, and was lost from their sight.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The elves set up camp at a glen, far enough from the destroyed orc encampment for the smoke and stench of burnt flesh not to reach their noses and befoul the air they breathed. They had been traveling light, so no tents were erected. They sat in small companies, and guards were posted. After a time Rhaegal also came and landed at the edge of the camp. He perched on a large, flat rock, and laid his head upon his tail. He remained still and silent, only his bright eyes moving; he watched the elves, but his gaze always returned to his mother.

Daenerys had been carried by some warriors beneath a great willow tree, whose branches hung low and provided a little bit of privacy. Shivers shook her body every now and then, as the poison coursed through her veins, and she clung to Thranduil's dirty cloak. When the elves tried to remove it, so as to inspect the wound, she whispered weakly, "No. I need the King." And so someone went to fetch him.

Thranduil's thigh pained him terribly, as he now lay on the ground, and his son was beside him. "I should not have let you walk all this way", Legolas said self-reproachfully. "You have exerted yourself, and the wound has worsened." A healer was cleaning said wound, removing carefully the dead flesh and applying athelas liniment upon it. As she did this, she chanted various healing words, and the King slowly relaxed.

"My wound does not concern me. It will heal", he told Legolas, and then turned his eyes to the healer. "But how is Daenerys? Her wound needs much more attention than mine."

"Healers are tending to her, hîr vuin", replied the elleth. "We have brought all sorts of potions and healing herbs with us, and she will receive the best possible care."

"I hope it is enough…" he sighed. Then he turned his gaze back to the Prince. "Legolas", he began. "Tell me how you found us. This orc camp was unknown to us, as of yesterday."

The younger ellon looked into his father's eyes. "We were first made aware that something was off by the green dragon. He returned to the Halls at night without Daenerys, which was odd enough in itself. And he would not retreat to the chamber with his brothers. He kept crying and flapping his wings instead, as if he wanted us to understand something from his behavior. And when the night deepened and neither you nor her appeared, dark thoughts crept in my mind. After a brief meeting of the council, we decided to search for you. The dragon accompanied us as we departed, and during our journey he would fly here and there, investigating the area. It was his lead that we followed southeast, and discovered the orc camp. Was it instinct, intelligence, or something else, I cannot tell", Legolas concluded.

"It was his bond with his mother…" Thranduil murmured.

But then a soldier came hurriedly. "My lord Thranduil, lady Daenerys asks for you. She will not let the healers treat her."

"What? I will come at once."

The Elvenking dismissed his healer and then got to his feet, and, propping half his weight on a broken branch he used as staff, he followed the soldier. He took him to where she lay, skin pallid and perspired, and Thranduil dropped to his knees beside her. "Daenerys…" he whispered her name, and her eyelids fluttered.

"Thranduil… I am cold…"

"Bring some blankets, will you?" he barked at the elves.

Two of them scurried off to do their lord's bidding, but another said, "We wished to remove the filthy cloak, but she would not let us. She clung to it as if it was for dear life."

"She walked through the flames to set the orc camp alight… The fire took her clothing. That is why she will not let go of my cloak", he explained. Then he turned to the elleth, who was the healer. "Did you inspect her wound?" he asked in urgency, his brow creasing in worry.

"I fear we did not have the chance, my lord…" she stuttered.

Thranduil grunted in frustration, but Daenerys took his hand. He looked at her, and she managed a weak smile. "It is not their fault…" she murmured.

The elves then returned with the blankets. "Lay the blankets here and leave. The healer shall stay. Everyone else, go!" the Elvenking commanded, his voice coming harsher than he had intended, but his worry was too great for him to take the time and honey his tone and his words now.

The elves bowed and walked away. Then Thranduil bent upon Daenerys, his thumb lightly caressing her brow now. "Daenerys… it is alright now. You can let go of my cloak", he spoke softly, and his eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, for deep sorrow nestled in his heart, to see her so sick from the poison.

She gasped as she tried to turn, in order to free herself from the cloak. But the healer touched her gently, and told her, "My lady, you should not move. Let me remove this for you."

Thranduil took a blanket and draped it over Daenerys' naked form, as soon as the elleth had stripped the cloak away from her. He drew it to her chest, leaving the area of the wound free for inspection and treatment. The healer took to work then, and her beautiful voice filled the air with healing chants. Daenerys' breathing calmed, and some color returned to her face. And Thranduil's heart was soothed to see her improve. The elleth bathed the wound with fragrant herbal water, and in the end dressed it with a clean compress, which had been dipped in athelas salve. She felt her forehead then. "Her temperature is low, but it seems to be coming up. Perhaps a fire would help her?" she suggested.

 _A fire? Of course. She is fire made flesh. She draws her strength through heat and flames,_ Thranduil mused. "An excellent idea, Círwen. Go tell my people to light a fire for Daenerys. Tell them it is the King's order", he instructed her.

"At once, my lord", the healer said, and swiftly left.

He was now alone with Daenerys, their figures partially hidden behind the great trunk of the tree, and concealed by the drooping branches of the willow. A soft wind was blowing, and it made them dance and rustle. The scenery would have been idyllic, were the circumstances different.

He drew another blanket and covered her. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked her, his hand caressing her hair now, which was equally tangled and dirty as his.

"Yes… The pain has subsided somewhat, but I do not think I can move my arm", she told him.

"Hush now, you need not tire yourself."

Some elves came then and built a fire close to her. As soon as it was lit, the flames made her eyes shine. "This is much better", she whispered. She reached with her good hand to the dancing flames, intangible orange tongues licking her palm, and the heat made her feel alive again. "I have felt this since I was little…" she reflected, as her fingers played with the wisps of flame. "I had suspected it for a long time… until I hatched my dragons, when assumption became certainty", she told him in a low, calm voice. Thranduil observed her; she looked mesmerized by the sight of the fire, and her gaze was lost to distant memories. "I always liked the water of my bath to be scalding hot… My bedmaids could not stand touching it, but I felt revived inside it", she went on in the same manner. "I should have known. Rhaegar was not the last dragon." But the sudden remembrance of her brother reminded her of his namesake, and she asked, "Rhaegal… where is he? I heard him earlier, when he flew down to save us."

"He is here, resting at the edge of the camp. He watches over you, I think", Thranduil told her.

"I am so relieved he is not harmed", she sighed. "When I called for him and he would not answer, I feared for the worst…"

He shook his head. "But nothing of the sort happened. Legolas told me he never abandoned you, and it was him who found you. The bond you share… it is so strong, Daenerys."

"It is unbreakable", she finished for him.

She closed her eyes then and fell silent for a long while. Thranduil thought she might have fallen asleep, so he adjusted his position to be more comfortable, and lay down next to her. He touched her hand, and it was warmer than before. _This is a good sign,_ he thought. _She must get warm, but not feverish._ He also felt the soothing effect of the fire by his feet, which eased the fatigue off his limbs. Her fingers then twined with his, and her indigo eyes fluttered open. "We are safe…" she whispered.

"Yes… We were lucky the orcs did not take us straight to Dol Guldur. Then our rescue would have been a much harder endeavor."

He reached forth then and dropped a feathery kiss on her brow. She sighed and snuggled against his chest. "This war you say is coming… I do not think it will be long now", she muttered.

"No… The orcs have grown too bold, and the Nazgûl too powerful, which can only signify that Sauron's own power has grown. He gathers all manner of evil creatures to him, and fortifies his strongholds. And the men of Gondor, who once stood vigil over Mordor, are now weak and broken, flailing under the questionable rule of Denethor, the Steward of the Throne", Thranduil said grimly.

"Steward? Is there no King?" Daenerys wondered.

"The line of Kings was thought to be broken… But the rightful heir lives, only he is reluctant in his path", he replied.

 _Reluctant. I know what that means,_ she mused. _How to take up the mantle and with it assume all the heavy responsibilities that accompany the crown? I would never presume to be Queen, were my brothers still alive. But now I am the rightful heir, as this man of Gondor Thranduil mentioned. But he might come into his own one day, whilst I never will._

"If the throne is restored, will the evil in Mordor be kept under control?" she asked.

"Men will rally to their King. The strength of Gondor will be renewed, and united all the free peoples shall stand against the Shadow", he replied.

"And is this man, this heir, a noble one?"

"Little have I known him, but I know that a nobler man there is not", he answered without hesitation. Then he looked into her eyes and smiled softly. "He is like Beren, from the old legend. And he has his own Lúthien to love…"

She raised her face a little. "He loves an elf?" The Elvenking nodded, his small smile never fading. "Then we are not the only ones…" She found she liked the idea that the reluctant heir of mortal Kings loved an immortal elleth; it filled her heart with hope that her own love for Thranduil could withstand the test of time and will. And he was possibly thinking the same, for his eyes shone as he looked at her.

But then a soldier approached. "My lord King", he called. "My lady", he added hastily. "We have prepared a stew. Do you wish to be served?"

The King sat up. "We are famished, my good elf. Of course we wish to be served."

The soldier then bowed deeply and left. Soon two large bowls were given to them, accompanied by slices of bread and pieces of cheese. They consumed their food with great appetite, and though it was naught but a humble vegetable soup, to them it tasted delicious.

A little later Legolas came and sat beside them. Thranduil was leaning against the tree-trunk, and Daenerys lay on her good side, safely tucked into her blankets. Their faces looked calm, and neither seemed to be in great discomfort. "My lord father", he started. "I am glad you have regained your strength. But the healers insist that your wounds need to be examined and cleaned again", he said, glancing at Daenerys as well.

"Very well. You may send them here, Legolas", the Elvenking said.

"One more thing." His father gave him a side-glance. "Everyone is wondering why you keep so close to her", Legolas said in a low, guarded tone.

A frown caused Thranduil's countenance to darken, and he looked away. Daenerys' eyes danced from father to son, but she chose not to speak. "Tell my people they should be less curious and more effective in what they are supposed to do", he grumbled.

"Adar, it was only a question. You need not get defensive", Legolas said.

"Daenerys saved the both of us. For the second time. And she was wounded by a poisoned arrow. There is no place else for me to be but by her side", the King stated.

There was truth in his words, and yet when the Prince saw the way Daenerys looked to his father, and how he leaned close to her, he suspected that the answer was not so simple. _Has he perchance grown fond of her? Can it be that the rumors in the palace are credible?_ But he spoke nothing of his thoughts. "I shall fetch the healers", he muttered, and walked away.

As soon as he was gone, Daenerys' hand found Thranduil's, who still seemed to be in an ill mood. "I think your son was not satisfied by your answer", she murmured.

"Yes… I saw suspicion in his eyes. But the relationship between us is none of his business, or anyone's business", he told her.

"But they will know, sooner or later", she pointed out.

"My personal life will be far less interesting, when there will be a war to contend with", he said, the frown never leaving his face. "But you should not concern yourself with such things now. What you have to do is rest, and let your wound heal. Poison takes time to leave the body completely."

She shifted slightly, and at once her shoulder ached. "Yes, I can tell as much. My whole arm hurts with every move, and I can still only barely move my fingers."

At that moment the healers arrived. One went to the King, and the other to Daenerys, and their wounds were treated with athelas once again. Daenerys saw Thranduil's wound just above his knee, where his breeches were torn. "Can you walk with this wound, my lord?" she worried.

"It gives me a limp, but I manage. The elves can resist poison, Daenerys", he explained.

The healer wrapped his leg in fresh bandages, and the other did the same for Daenerys' shoulder and gave her a sling for her arm. Before they left they gave them flasks of athelas potion to have by their side and drink, whenever they felt faint or in pain. By now the sun had begun to wane, and its warmth dissipated. Thranduil called for his soldiers to stir up their fire again, and a while later they were served bread and cheese again. Legolas came and shared dinner with them, and after he had made sure that his father was alright, he retired for the night. The King gave orders for guards to be posted, and for none to disturb him during the night, unless it was an absolute emergency.

Soon silence shrouded the camp, as the night descended. A few fires were lit, and only the sound of the crackling wood was to be heard. Every now and then a light breeze would cause the long boughs of the willow tree to rustle, and the shrill chirping of the crickets filled the night. But the chill in the air was now palpable, for, even though the sunny days were still warm and reminiscent of summer, the autumn nights heralded the coming of winter.

Daenerys drew her blankets tight around her body. Beside her Thranduil had also taken a blanket, to chase the chill of the night away. "Are you warm enough?" he murmured softly, his hand caressing her hair.

"I am trying to be", she admitted. "Nights have grown cold. Winter is coming once again."

"Yes… It has nearly been a year since I found you", he reflected. "It was a crisp autumn day when you appeared on my path."

"And what a long way we have come since then… My dragons were babies, and now they are grown, burning down enemies with their breath. And we…" she gazed at him. His eyes were silver at that hour, reflecting the pale moonlight that shone through the drooping willow branches. His otherworldly beauty made her shiver with awe and desire for him.

"We have found much in each other", he completed her thought. "My heart yearns for you, Daenerys, and now I would not have wanted it any other way.

His fingers snuck behind her head, and held her as his face lowered upon hers. Their lips met with longing, and his radiant spirit engulfed her whole being, making her tingle in that familiar way she tingled when his energy surged through her. Desperately she wished then to touch him, but she was leaning on her good arm, and the other was bound and numb. But Thranduil helped her ease on her back, and her arm was free to embrace him, as he lowered himself upon her, careful to keep his weight off of her. Their kiss deepened and grew in need, and her hand traveled along his back, creeping beneath his loosened tunic and making contact with his skin. He moaned then softly, but it was a sound only for her ears, for he was careful to be quiet. "Thranduil…" she whispered his name reverentially.

"Daenerys…" He cradled her head, but as he was about to speak on, a loud roar was heard from high up in the sky. Alarmed he broke apart from her, and the elves in the camp were roused as well and jumped to their feet. But Daenerys only smiled, and turned her gaze to where Rhaegal flew down from above and landed not far from his mother.

"Thranduil, help me up", she requested. He did that, and with some difficulty Daenerys rose to her feet, while holding the blanket snug about her shoulders. She then walked to the dragon, whilst leaning on Thranduil, who in turn propped half his weight on the makeshift staff.

"Everyone go back to sleep", the King shouted. "There is no cause for alarm."

As they approached Rhaegal, he turned his large head and fixed his clever eyes on the pair. He made a sound deep in his throat, and he blinked twice, lowering his head for his mother to reach him. She gazed at him with fondness, and her fingers touched his nose. "My child…" she whispered, lightly stroking him. "Have you hunted well? Are you sated?"

He blinked again and snorted, and Daenerys smiled. But then the dragon craned his neck towards Thranduil, and he produced that same low, rumbling sound again. The King was standing beside Daenerys, supporting her, and she held him when he made to step back. "No, Thranduil, do not be afraid. He will not harm you. He wishes to know you. Touch him, like I do", she prompted him.

"Touch him?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes. Give me your hand."

She took his hand and guided it towards the dragon's snout. She felt his fingers trembling beneath hers. "Do not be afraid", she repeated softly, and looked at him briefly so as to encourage him. He was apprehensive, but fought against his fear. "Rhaegal is your friend, not your enemy", she said, and the green dragon watched Thranduil as his hand hovered in front of his great jaws. Then his fingertips made contact with the hard, scaly skin of the winged serpent, and the Elvenking let out a long-held breath. Rhaegal allowed him to touch him for a few fleeting moments, and then he turned and crawled away, to find a place to sleep.

Thranduil stood breathless and mesmerized. "I touched him…" he uttered in awe.

Daenerys smiled. "He has taken a liking to you from the beginning on. It was easier to touch him when he was a hatchling, right? He was so small and harmless then. Now he is grown, and his jaws are deadly. But he still likes you, and he still lets you touch him."

"But… how can it be? You are his mother. I am no one to him", Thranduil wondered.

"He trusts you. For centuries, only those with the blood of Old Valyria could get familiar with dragons. To everyone else, such an endeavor held great peril. But Rhaegal has sensed something in you..." her voice trailed off in thought.

"What is that?"

She shook her head. "I do not know."

Thranduil sighed. "Let us go back to the tree… You need to lie down and rest."

And so they did, and soon enough they were safely tucked under the warm blankets. The fire flickered by their feet, and soon Daenerys relaxed in Thranduil's arms. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes and said, "You were kissing me before Rhaegal came."

He gave her a half-grin. "Indeed." He bent then and claimed her lips in a searing kiss, holding her close to him, but careful not to touch her injured shoulder. She kissed him back, allowing the kiss to cure her from all her worries and her fears. When she was with Thranduil she cared not for the world around them. His lips and his embrace were all that existed for her, and his voice was all the music she ever wished to listen to. With her good hand she drew him closer still, pressing herself against him. His hand slid to the small of her back, and then followed the curve of her spine, up and down. She shuddered when his fingers touched her naked skin, and he found that she was warm to the touch, her temperature having at last returned to normal. The memory of her walking naked through the flames came then vivid in his mind, as his kiss deepened, and desire awoke in his loins.

"You are a goddess of fire…" he whispered to her, his hand now traveling along the length of her thigh.

"I am not a goddess", she breathed, her nails digging into his arm.

"I worship you nonetheless."

He bent then and trailed kisses down the white column of her throat, and she threw her head back, closing her eyes. When his hand skimmed over a taut breast she shivered, her nipples standing to attention. Soon his hand closed upon it, causing her to gasp in delight. She writhed beneath him, and he felt himself harden against her thigh. But as he pressed against her, realization dawned on her. "No, no… Thranduil, stop. What are we doing?"

He removed himself from her so as to look at her, and then he realized she was right. Trying to contain his sexual frustration, he sat up and breathed the crisp night air deeply. "I got carried away", he admitted. "I find myself unable to resist you, when you are so close… Please forgive me."

She propped herself on her good elbow. "Forgive you? There is nothing to forgive", she said gently and touched his hand. "I want to lie with you as much as you want to lie with me. But this is not the time and the place… Besides, our wounds would give us trouble. I can barely embrace you, one-armed as I am now."

He turned to her with a small smile and cupped her cheek. "We shall wait for your wound to heal." He then drew her in his arms, his presence enveloping her protectively.

She drank from his strength, and after a while broke free of his embrace. "I think you should return to your son", she told him quietly.

"You would have me leave you now?"

"It is only proper that you sleep… elsewhere", she replied.

"I cannot leave you alone", he protested.

"I have Rhaegal", she said with a smile.

Thranduil huffed. He did not like the idea of parting from her in the black of night. "And what if you need anything? What if your wound pains you?"

"I have this flask of athelas… But I will be fine, Thranduil. And you will be only a few meters away. There is no need for you to worry", she reassured him.

Unwillingly, he grasped the staff and rose to his feet. "Are you certain about this?

She smiled. "I am."

He nodded. "Good night, then… May you rest well."

"And you, my love."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

For several days after their return to the Elvenking's Halls Daenerys stayed in her chambers, mostly resting. Healers visited her twice daily to change the dressing of the wound and monitor the healing process. The lady Doronith, the chief healer, also came to see her every other day, and she was generally pleased with how her organism responded to the poison and the treatment. She seemed to be stronger than ordinary men. Movement had almost immediately returned to her fingers, and by the first week she could flex and extend her elbow without much discomfort. The shoulder itself would take a longer time to be restored to full range of motion, and it might feel stiff for the first months, but the healers kept reassuring Daenerys that all effects of the wound and the poison would eventually disappear.

At times, when she was well-rested and strong, she would also try to heal herself. She would always have a fire lit in the hearth then, and beside it she would sit upon the carpet and chant healing spells, while her gaze was transfixed on the flames. And while she sang the magical words, the flames would come alive and dance in front of her eyes, and Daenerys would reach to them, praying for them to lend her their soothing warmth and their searing power. She would often say the words in High Valyrian, and then the fire would roar brighter, as if the flames themselves sensed her kinship with Old Valyria, and her blood called to them.

Besides the healing, there was little else for her to occupy herself with, until she would be strong enough to venture outside the Halls. Reading had become a dear companion, and Istuives brought her new books to read. Luineth would also share tea and biscuits with her in the afternoon, and she would relay to her the news of the realm. Daenerys called it gossip, but the blue-eyed elleth insisted otherwise. And Faelwen would often bake her delicacies, and that berry pie she knew Daenerys loved best. She consumed her food with appetite, looking at it now with a greater appreciation, after the foul-smelling orc food and their starvation during their abduction, and got stronger by the day.

And for the Elvenking the days passed not much differently. The healers had advised him to avoid walking or standing on his injured leg for a period of time, until it healed properly. He disliked remaining inactive, though, and disobeyed their instructions at first. But after a day's foolhardy behavior, when he had walked and stood a lot to observe the building of new fortifications along the southern border, he had returned to the Halls almost unable to walk, and he was confined to strict bedrest for a fortnight.

But then Meren-nuin-Giliath was approaching, and Thranduil had no intention of missing the feast. He was careful to follow the healers' instructions, and on the night of the feast he stood from the bed, got dressed in marvelous robes of deep brown embroidered with golden thread, donned his autumn crown of interwoven twigs and red leaves – which was his favorite of the year – took his staff of carven oak, and made for the feasting hall.

The feast, as all elven feasts, was merry and glorious. Fruits of the harvest were delivered and shared among the elves, and oat pies were baked. There were also dried figs and plums, and sweet red wine, which smelled of oranges and cinnamon. Legolas was particularly fond of this wine since he was little, and his glass never seemed to be empty during the feast. Daenerys, wearing a new burgundy gown, was seated at the King's left, as he had requested, and mirthfully watched Legolas draining cup after cup. _He is his father's son,_ she thought with a smile, remembering Thranduil's fondness for wine, a trait he never cared to hide. But she found she also liked this autumn wine, for it was sweet and fruit-flavored, and it was easy to get drunk on it. Still, the King abstained from drinking too much tonight, she observed.

"My lord? Are you not in a good mood? You drink little of this fine wine, and you speak even less", she commented.

"My mood is fine", he assured her. "It is my leg that still gives me some trouble", he said, motioning towards his left knee. "I did not follow the healers' instructions when I had to, and now I am paying the price. Furthermore, it is my left leg that is injured, and the old burns have weakened this side. A wound on my left takes longer to heal than a wound on my right", he explained.

"I am sorry to hear that", she murmured.

"My father is not a reckless ellon, but sometimes he overestimates his strength", Legolas interjected. "And he is stubborn. If he wants to walk for miles on an injured leg, then he will."

Thranduil frowned at him. "Listen to who is speaking. A more stubborn elfling there was not, when you were little. Your mother and I had much trouble bringing you back in line every time you decided to play a new mischief."

But the Prince laughed heartily. "You never punished me, though."

The Elvenking sighed, and cast his eyes low. "You were our only son."

Daenerys watched their exchange and tried to imagine them in times gone, when they were a happy family. She remembered some passages from Oropher's book, where he mentioned Thranduil's wife and described him as a young ellon, and formed such an image in her mind. He pictured him young and radiant, with a golden-haired elf-lady by his side, and a beautiful elf-child in his arms. _To have once had a family and to have lost it… Such a tragedy. Perhaps a worse tragedy than having no family at all,_ she reflected.

"And your mother loved you too much to allow me to punish you, even a little. Thence you became so audacious and stubborn", Thranduil belatedly added, giving his son a side-glance, but his voice carried a hint of jest.

Legolas laughed again, his laughter clear and warm as a sunny morning. Then he stood from his seat and bowed to Thranduil. "You will excuse me, my lord father, for I wish to mingle with our subjects and find a suitable dancing partner."

"Yes, Legolas, go…" he answered dismissively and waved his hand elegantly.

After a few moments of silence, Thranduil turned to Daenerys. "I have missed you", he muttered miserably. "I am sick of this bedrest and confinement, when all I wish is to be near you", he confessed.

"I know… I feel the same", she told him, secretly touching his thigh under the table.

"Is your shoulder at least improving?"

"Yes, thankfully. I can move my arm satisfactorily, and the pain has subsided. I still need some athelas draught every now and then, however", she answered.

"Yes… Such evil wounds take a long time to heal."

"I wished to thank you", she suddenly said.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What for?"

"For allowing my dragons to roam free, while I cannot go outside. It would kill them to be chained in the Halls for so long…" she sighed.

He shook his head. "Of course. Their freedom is well-earned. They deserve it."

She smiled fondly, and he returned the sentiment. She drank from her cup then, while a question played in her mind, a question that took form since the conversation with Legolas. "Thranduil", she started. "You said Legolas is your only son. Why did you not have another?"

His gaze grew sorrowful. "We wanted to have another child. But we did not have the chance to."

Her face fell then, feeling for his sorrow. "I understand."

"I know you do". His hand found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"What did your wife look like, Thranduil? I have never seen a portrait of her…"

He let out a sigh. "In my grief after her death I forbade anyone from speaking her name, or drawing her image again… The pain was so terrible, so consuming, that I could not go near it, I could not touch it. The memory itself was unbearable. If I looked at her fair face again I would break…"

"Her absence still pains you", Daenerys observed.

"And it always will. But it is different now." He turned to look at her. "I have you, and when I am with you, all else fades away." But then his face grew concerned. "But are you happy here? Are you content, at least? Or does your heart cry for the homeland you left behind?"

She remained thoughtful for a while. Essos seemed too far off now, and Westeros further still. But her desire to reclaim what was rightfully hers had not died in her heart. "It pains me to think of what I lost, I will not lie to you. But here I have found so much… And I have found love again", she told him, taking his hand in hers. "Are you still reluctant to trust to my love?"

His thumb traced her knuckles. "Your heart has been proven true and constant over the past year. My own heart begins to realize that your love is real…"

She withdrew her hand then, as frowns from the other side of the table were directed towards her. Some nobles had seen her, and obviously did not approve of her gesture. "Best if we talk of something else", she mumbled.

The Elvenking noticed the displeased nobles as well, but he ignored them. "I tire of them, Daenerys. I am too old to care about their petty opinions… They are fine political advisors, but in the matters of the heart their views are antiquated. Elven morals are clearly defined and strict, to be sure, and little has changed over the centuries. We are a constant people, and we live indefinitely, unlike men, whose societies and habits change in the blink of an eye. But still, some tolerance would be advisable. You would think that some of those councilors are easier to forgive treachery, than to accept the fact that an elf may love for a second time…"

"It is absurd."

"And yet it is true." He looked to his goblet, swirled its content once, and took a small sip from the wine. "I like autumn wine", he said, wishing to change the subject. "Too bad my healers forbade me to drink tonight. They say the alcohol hinders the healing effect of the herbs…"

She smiled. "I may be an apprentice, but this is one of the first lessons they teach you. Wine might be useful as a temporary painkiller, when other means are not available, but one should not drink when he is under treatment. They say alcohol weakens the body, and makes it more susceptible to illness and infection."

"Yes… And that is why I will only have this one cup tonight, and no more."

Daenerys remembered how much Thranduil had drunk during the feast on Midsummer's Eve. He had refilled his goblet so many times that she had lost counting. It seemed impossible now that the Elvenking would constrain himself to a single cup of wine all night long. "It requires some willpower, this grand feat", she teased him lightly.

He laughed. "I must fight against my urges", he said, locking eyes with hers.

She felt unable to break free from his gaze, as his starlit eyes peered deep into hers. "Perhaps not all of them", she whispered under her breath.

Feeling his body stir with arousal, he sank back to his chair and inhaled deeply. _This is not the time,_ he thought, blinking once, as if he was trying to chase the images of temptation from his mind. But she was seated right next to him, and her lips were rosy and full, and her hair shone. Her eyes of amethyst called to him with their alluring power, and her soft body underneath her velvet gown beckoned to him with its enticing curves and dimples. Her breast swelled and fell with her every breath, and he imagined running his fingertips over that tender flesh. And her hips were round, and… _No. I must stop thinking of her,_ he told himself.

"Thranduil?" she called to him, and he turned. "You looked too distant for a moment…"

He managed a small smile. "Trying to seduce me here, in the hall, in front of my lords, is not a very good idea", he said with a measure of amusement.

She could not suppress her laughter. "I will retire then, and remove this temptation from your presence. Enjoy the rest of the feast, my lord", she said, and stood from the table.

Thranduil watched her intently as she walked away. In her final words there was a hidden invitation. It was as if she had told him, "Come and find me later if you are bored here." Or was it just his impression? No, Daenerys was neither naïve nor prudish. And she had confessed that she desired him as much as he desired her. But weeks had gone by, and they had barely seen each other. Now that they were in each other's presence again, it was only reasonable that these feelings would take fire. _It was an invitation,_ he decided, as he fidgeted with his fork. _Should I give in to it? Is it love confessed?_

But his own feet provided the answer for him, when later in the night, as the feast had started to wane, they turned for Daenerys' chambers, instead of taking him straight to his. Like a thief in the night he felt, or like a child committing mischief as he walked as hurriedly as his leg would allow along the corridors. The light of the lanterns above created long shadows on the floor; some of them were still, but some seemed to follow him as he went. Holding his breath, he reached her doors at last and knocked on them twice.

They opened, and behind them appeared Daenerys. She had removed her heavy gown, and was now dressed in a long, warm robe, which clung to her body with the help of a cord tied around her slim waist. "You came", she said as she beheld him.

"Am I unwelcome?"

Instead of replying verbally, she pulled him by the lapels of his tunic and kissed him. He had a mind to shut the door before taking her in his arms and returning her ardent kiss. She held him tightly, and his hands roamed all over her back. Their kiss deepened, their tongues invaded each other's mouth and fought for dominance, and desire made their bodies tingle with life.

A while later he broke the kiss for breath, and said, "I can tell you were expecting me."

"Of course I was", she replied smugly. "I knew you would come. I wanted you to come."

"I know", he spoke softly. "But there is something I want to show you." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I had promised you a gift… a special one. Here it is."

He produced a small parcel from his robes and gave it to her. Daenerys ran her fingertips over the velvet cloth and then unfolded it. When her eyes met the silver dragon-shaped circlet, she gasped. "I thought you had said that in jest…"

"No. It was a promise."

The crown was thin and elegant, and its band was in the shape of a scaly dragon's body. On the forehead the two ends of the band were fashioned in the likeness of dragon-heads, two on the left side and one on the right, so that the lone head aimed in-between the twin ones. All dragons had eyes, and they were beset with gemstones. One was a ruby, another an emerald, and the third a yellow topaz. _One color for every dragon,_ Daenerys realized. As she turned the circlet in her hands, she noticed that above the ears the band flared out like dragon-wings. The detail was intricate, and the crown was light, a fine piece of jewelry of elven-make.

"An appropriate crown for the mother of dragons", he told her.

"Thranduil… I do not know what to say. It is fascinating", she whispered. "This must have cost a fortune. You are too generous with me."

He smiled. "You saved my life twice, and you are precious to me beyond measure. Besides, what use is my treasury if not to present those I cherish with gifts?"

Tears of emotion rose in her eyes. "This is a very personal gift. Thank you."

He stood in front of her and cupped her face tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. "All I wish is to see you smile. I want you to feel welcome here, accepted, celebrated even. Because you deserve it."

She drew him into a warm embrace. "You have made this place home to me. I ask for nothing else."

He held her for a while, and then said, "Come on. Put it on."

She walked to the mirror and placed the circlet on her head. Her reflection pleased her deeply. _I am the Dragon Queen,_ she mused. _If only it were not only in image…_

The Elvenking came and stood behind her. "You look magnificent", he murmured in her ear, and his hands found her waist. His voice and touch caused her to shiver, and she allowed her back to come in contact with his front. "Daenerys… All this time we spent apart… no more."

She observed their reflection in the mirror. His hands slid on her hips, and he bent to lightly kiss her ear. "Tell me, then", she said, turning in his arms. He looked at her with question in his eyes. "Tell me that you love me. Tell me that we are one, that we share a bond unbreakable. Tell me all that, and then love me."

It was a plea and a demand at the same time. He gazed at her flushed face, drinking in all that was her. His voice was soft and steady when he said, "I love you, Daenerys. Without doubt, without fear, without regret. Without ever looking back, but only to the future. I wish to be one with you, to share a bond unbreakable with you. I wish to love you, and be loved by you. Will you let me?"

Her eyes twinkled with excitement, to at last hear his confession of love. "And I love you, Thranduil. I love you beyond reason. Once I pledged you my aid, and now I pledge you my heart. I am yours, as you are mine. Yes, let us love each other, and be one, at last, in body and soul."

He bent forth then and sealed her lips with his. The kiss started slow and tentative, but soon they got lost in each other, hungry for more. His hands found their way back to her hips, and felt her curves, which always allured him so. And she removed the broach of his cloak and let it fall to the floor. Next came the laces of his tunic, and as soon as they were loosened her fingers crept underneath the material, touching his skin eagerly. Thranduil quickly removed it, standing only in boots and breeches now. But Daenerys pulled him to her again, and they kissed again, insatiable in their desire for each other. He pressed against her, and she felt him harden, as he kissed her with abandon and his hands traveled from hip to waist and buttock. Her soft moans served only to excite him further, and now he toyed with the cord of her robes. But as he tugged at it his movements slowed down, for it would be the first time she would be revealed to him in her hour of passion. He had seen her before unclothed, the day he found her and when she walked through the flames, but now it was different. Now desire burned inside him, and he longed to touch her. And Daenerys held her breath as his fingers crept between the flaps of her robe and pushed them aside. Her breasts came into view, soft and round, nipples hardened in arousal. He ran his thumbs over them and she gasped, and then gently cupped her female globes of flesh. The robe came loose and opened, and she shrugged out of it. It slid off her body and pooled by her feet. Now she was naked and exposed to him, and he took his time admiring her form, his gaze gliding over every little detail of it.

"Daenerys… you are so beautiful…" he murmured, his eyes traveling back to hers.

Her expression betrayed a small measure of uneasiness, or perhaps anxiety, but his soft caress on her hair soothed it away. She closed the distance between them and sought his lips. He quickly complied, and allowed her to undress him. She fumbled with the laces of his breeches, fingers trembling in excitement of what was about to follow, but her ministrations, though unwillingly, aroused him further. He covered her hand with his and guided her to feel him, and he gasped as she did. She gave him a few light strokes, and then at last untied the laces and pushed his breeches down. Unrestrained now, his manhood stood erect, waiting for her attention. But she looked in his eyes before touching him, and in them she saw the same uneasiness that she, too, felt.

"So many years… so many centuries…" he muttered, shaking with tension.

She dropped a kiss on his shoulder, and another on his cheek, and hugged him, nestling her head beneath his chin. "I am nervous too", she admitted in a small voice.

His arms closed about her protectively. "We need not rush this…"

The sound of distant thunder then broke the silence of the night, and Daenerys shuddered in Thranduil's embrace. He smiled and kissed her temple. "A storm is coming."

She glanced at the window. The wind was howling outside, and the first thick raindrops began falling. But inside the hearth was warm with fire, and his arms warmer still. "Come to bed with me…" she whispered, and took him by the hand.

Soon they crawled beneath the covers, and their limbs entwined. She felt safer there, and cradled his head as she kissed him. He gently pushed her on her back, the soft mattress receiving their weight, and the silken sheets caressing their limbs. She wound her arms about him, feeling the taut muscles of his back. He moved on top of her, and gently nudged her thighs apart with his knee. His movement made her gasp once more, and, triggered by that, he pressed against her. She slid her hand between their bodies then and felt him, and his breath was quick and shallow. "My love…" she murmured and kissed him, as she continued to stroke him. "You need not hold back. I am here for you. I am ready, and I want to be united with you."

He gazed intensely in her eyes and kissed her breathlessly. She spread her legs better, and he settled between them. He guided himself to her entrance with his heart beating like a drum, and when their sexes touched for the first time they both gasped. He entered her, pushing his way in slowly, carefully, engraving every moment of it to memory. And his spirit became one with hers as they were at last fully joined, warmth and light enveloping them both. She clung to him and her hands found his backside, pressing him down on her. Then he moved, and she moaned, and he moved again, a little harder this time, and then a little faster, until she became completely comfortable with him inside her, and she cried for more. She tightened her legs around his hips, deepening the angle of penetration, and he gasped and panted, quickening the rhythm. They kissed at all times, and only occasionally broke for air, or to lightly nibble on each other, as lovers do. His movements gradually became more demanding, and he grasped her hips and lifted her pelvis. She wanted to scream in pleasure, but she held control over herself. Her chest heaved, and her fingers rumpled the sheets, and before long she met her peak and fell apart under him, shuddering and convulsing until she rode off the waves of her most intense pleasure. The sight of her was all he needed to find his own release, and he came soon after her with a few hard thrusts, gasping and panting and trembling.

They held each other tightly, and they did not let go even after they had calmed down and their heart rates had returned to normal. Their bodies were unwilling to part, and their limbs remained tangled. Her head lay on his shoulder, and he kissed her brow. "My love, my heart…" he murmured lazily.

"Stay. Sleep with me tonight", she asked of him, reaching up to kiss his lips.

He kissed her back, and smiled. "Did you think I would leave? Oh, my love… I am not finished loving you yet."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The morning dawned heavy and bleak after the storm of the previous night. Leaden clouds still lingered in the sky, and it was still raining, though now it was a soft and quiet rainfall, persistent and soporific as the rains of late autumn and winter are wont to be. The air was chill and humid, and the faint light only rarely pierced the grey veil of the sky, the sunrays hitting the ground like sharp spears in the blink of an eye, only to disappear again. The trees stood like ghosts in the fog, their dark boughs drooping grim and wet under the merciless battering of the raindrops. No birds sang, no squirrels chirped, no fawns ran among shrub and stone. Only shadows lurked behind the thick tree-trunks, and moved regardless of the light.

Such a view was before Thranduil's eyes, as he gazed out of the window. The fire in the hearth had been reduced to embers, and the warmth had dissipated from the room. He did not mind that much, though, as cold did not bother him. He was naked, his clothes still scattered on the floor from the night before. His gaze was lost, as images of their lovemaking played in his mind. They had at last confessed and accepted each other's love, and become one in soul and body. And more than once had they loved each other, for once would never be enough for two people who love and desire each other dearly.

 _She kissed him again then on the lips, and afterwards lightly nibbled on his ear, from the earlobe to the pointy tip and back. She seemed fascinated by his ears, and relished the shivers she gave him when she touched him there._

" _We take pride in our ears", he told her with closed eyes and a side-smirk._

" _I can see why", she replied, and licked the tip again._

 _He sighed in delight, and then with one decisive motion he gripped her by the arms and pinned her beneath him. "You like to tease me…"_

" _Because I love the way you respond."_

 _He bent down and claimed her lips forcefully, but she was no less fierce, as her nails dug into the skin of his back. His body pressed down on hers, and his hands found her breasts, kneading them fondly. She moaned and tensed, but she had a plan in mind. "Turn."_

" _What?"_

" _On you back, my lord", she commanded._

 _He obliged, and she straddled him with confidence like she used to straddle her silver mare, eyes shining with fire and face glowing with excitement. She was in control, she was both demanding and giving, she was a Queen. And when he was ready for her and she for him, she eased herself upon him, sheathing him inside her completely. He gasped audibly from the depth of the penetration, and when she began moving atop him, eyes closed and lips parted in rapture, all it took was a few minutes for him to find his climax, and all the world shattered around him. Eyes closed, he became oblivious to his surroundings, but in his mind played visions of exaltation and gandeur. There was Daenerys, only her. Violet-eyed Dragonqueen, silver-crowned, impervious to flames. Flames, bright red flames rising up towards the sky, consuming all in their hunger. And only her walked amongst the ruins, naked and brilliant, one with the flames._

"Thranduil?"

Her low, hoarse from slumber voice disrupted his vision. He glanced at her from over his shoulder. "You are awake…"

She shifted a little, propping herself on one elbow. The covers slipped from her body, revealing one breast. Her face was rosy and her eyes hooded, as she was still sleepy, and he smiled at the sight she posed. "I want all my morns to begin like this", he said.

She smiled back, and extended her arm towards him. "Come to me…"

He turned and approached the bed, and she noticed his half-erect manhood. Lithe limbs climbed on the mattress, and she sat up and drew him close. Flesh touching upon flesh now, she was warm, and he was cool. His arms slid around her, and she flung the covers aside, coming to perch in his lap. He greeted her with a soft kiss, and she threaded her fingers through his fine silver strands. He kissed her again, and she gasped, feeling the necessity to be closer to him. He held her, one arm strongly supporting her back, while the other cupped her face as he kissed her, and then descended on her breast. Thereupon it stayed and teased her tender flesh, causing her to sigh. She was not idle either. Her fingers closed around his quickly hardening shaft, and stroked him slowly. He moaned and whispered her name, and she kissed him with urgency, lifting now her pelvis and allowing his manhood to glide underneath her. She clung to him tightly as he entered her, and together they rocked in their dance of passion, loving each other, chasing their release. And when they met it at last, she cried, and he shuddered, emptying his essence inside her.

Breathless they were afterwards, relishing the afterglow of their passion with lazy caresses and soft kisses, their limbs always entwined. "And I want my morns to begin like this", she said, repeating his words.

He smiled. "Daenerys… my sweet Daenerys", he murmured, his fingers playing with a curl of her hair.

She rested her head on his shoulder then, and her eyes traveled to the world beyond her window. "It is still raining", she observed. "It has not stopped since last night."

"The rain keeps us company."

"It is a welcome companion. But the air in the room has grown chill. I would have the fire revived", she said, and removed herself from his embrace. A shiver ran through her as she was bereft of his warmth, and she sought for her robes. Thranduil watched her as she walked to the fireplace and fed some new logs to the fire. It was soon blazing bright, and he was compelled to leave the comfort of the bed and join Daenerys by it. He grabbed a blanket as he stood, and said, "Let us relocate to the sofa. With the fire now going, it is bound to be much warmer there."

She eagerly accepted his invitation, for the offer was promising. Soon they cuddled on the soft pillows and cushions, her back against his chest and the warm blanket covering them. "I would not object to spending the whole day like this", he murmured.

"But will you not be missed? Actually, are you not missed already?" she wondered.

"Yes, probably…" he mused. "Most certainly so", he added as an afterthought, as he contemplated the responsibilities and duties that awaited him.

"You are King. You cannot spend your whole day on the sofa."

"Why not?" She turned and gave him a side-glance of reprimand. He laughed. "I was jesting. A King cannot take a day off, it seems… not even one."

The look on his face caused her to feel sorry for him. So many years had gone by for him, years without any joy or pleasure, save only perhaps the presence of his son. They had been years of war and duty, devoid of warmth, of touch, of heartfelt words and undisturbed slumber. Those years had shaped him into a statue of ice, a King with a hard exterior, a face difficult to read and decipher, a mind with thoughts obscure and abstruse. Disappointed by the world, he had withdrawn from it, and chosen the seclusion of his Halls as his sanctuary. How difficult it must have been for him to at last open his heart to someone, and to accept love in his life again…

"You shall at least have our night to reminisce upon", she told him softly, fingers dancing lightly upon his chest.

The Elvenking nodded. "It will give me much consolation in my tedious hours of office."

For a while longer they lay there and watched the crackling fire, until at last Thranduil stood and dressed, announcing it was time he went. Daenerys bade him farewell with a kiss, and then headed for the kitchens. She had started feeling hungry, and breakfast was in order.

* * *

The weeks that followed the celebration of Mereth-nuin-Giliath were marked by the shortening of the days and the growing impertinence of the foul creatures of the forest. The King was preoccupied with rescheduling the patrol routes, adding new ones and appointing more guards to the task of protecting the realm. Reports reached him daily of spider clusters that had been discovered and destroyed, and they seemed to have breached his borders, and were now found much closer to his Halls. The raids of the orc bands became more frequent, and the elves that lived in the woods in small colonies were devastated by them. Thranduil took to visiting personally those people that had suffered the most from the raids, and offered them what help he could. He gave them provisions for the winter, means and gold to rebuild their homes, and also an open invitation to the safety of his Halls, for them to find refuge whenever they wished to. He saw to the fortification of the defenses, and became even warier in his treating with strangers.

From her side, Daenerys continued with her life as she did before, dividing her hours mainly between the herbal garden and the library. The King she saw rarely, but he would come to her chambers whenever he returned to the palace, after his visits to the elven villages, and he would love her with unquenched passion.

But one of those nights, as they had just made love and were now blissfully lying in the arms of each other, she decided to speak what had been on her mind for days now. "You will leave again tomorrow", she said.

"Yes… I have to visit my people at the eastern reaches of the realm. They are frequent victims of orc attacks. In the face of the coming war, I cannot abandon them. I must make sure they have all the protection and support they need", he explained.

She nodded. "Of course." Her eyes shimmered then, as she looked at him. "Take me with you."

He drew back a little, looking incredulous. "Why would you wish that?"

"I want to meet your people, to see how they live outside the Halls. All I have known are the elves of the palace and your household, the nobles and the courtiers, the servants and the healers. But I want to know the simple people, those who are the heart of your kingdom itself", she answered.

He smiled, obviously pleased with her words. "Very well. You can accompany me then, if you can get yourself ready by the dawn."

"Excellent", she chimed, and sprang out of bed, rushing to her closet.

"You shall need your warmest cloak… Winter is here, and harsh winds blow from the east, where the forest ends", he warned her.

She sifted through her clothes, picking up those that suited the case and packing them in a large leather sack. He watched her in amusement, until at some point she paused and lifted her eyes to him. "Oh, and something else."

"What would that be?"

"I will be taking Drogon with me."

He sat up in alarm. "Why would you need to take the dragon along? The people will be scared."

"Chances are they have already seen my dragons flying over their heads, at least once or twice. Your forest is vast, but the dragons fly wherever they please. And they should see them and know that they will be protected against the forces of evil, when the war comes", Daenerys stated with confidence.

But there was a frown on Thranduil's brow, and he looked skeptical. "I am not sure if that is a good idea. The dragon might complicate things needlessly. My people in the Halls are accustomed to their presence now. Those who live in the woods are not", he insisted.

"It is time they saw them. Am I not your ally in the war or not?" she asked him, mildly irritated now.

"You are", he confirmed.

"Then let them know their ally. It is better to see the dragons now, in the time of peace, rather than later." His unchanged expression prompted her to step to the bed and take his hand. "Thranduil… The dragons are grown. They already prefer to spend most of their time outside the Halls, and their chamber has grown small for all three of them. I told you, they fly freely to wherever they want. It is better if your people are informed about my presence and theirs, before the Shadow strikes."

He sighed, but in the end nodded. "I can see your argument. Very well. Take Drogon along. I will try to explain the situation to my people."

She smiled and showed her thanks with an ardent kiss.

* * *

Thranduil and Daenerys were greeted by a bright sun and a cloudless sky when they left the Halls and began on their journey east. The air was crisp and clear, bearing the scent of fresh snow. White was their path, and the hooves of their mounts left their traces upon the untrodden snow. Behind the King followed his host, carts laden with goods and wine, weapons and armor and other things that would be gifted to the elven folk of the villages. And above the riders flew Drogon, welcoming the morning with a joyful roar as he took to the skies.

"So, where exactly is this village we are headed to?" Daenerys asked, bringing her horse close to the King's.

"It is not one village, but a cluster of small ones, scattered around the banks of the Celduin. We shall travel southeast to reach them", he explained.

The image of a human village formed in her mind then, but she doubted an elven village would be much alike. "What do those villages look like?"

Thranduil smiled. "The elves make their homes upon the great, tall trees… We build flets, which are interconnected with ladders and bridges."

"So everything is built up high then?"

"Indeed. Though there are some structures on the ground, most of them are hidden up in the strong boughs of the trees. To the untrained eye of a traveler passing beneath, it might not even look like a village at all. He might pass through it and never know it", he said with a grin.

"I have gathered that your people value their privacy…" she commented.

"Yes, they are secretive. The nature of the wood-elves has always been so. And the Sindar that came to their lands from Beleriand soon adopted many of their views, and their way of living. But the Silvan elves love the forests best, and we have learned much from them. They may have learned lore and music and poetry and wisdom from us, but we have learned to appreciate nature and the simplicity in things from our Silvan cousins. For our kindreds are closer than you may think, Daenerys. We Sindar and they are both branches of the Teleri group of elves…" the Elvenking narrated.

She remembered the elven lore-books she used to read in the library, and how the sundering of the elves was described. It was not an easy thing to commit to memory, but she did remember the basics, and she understood why Thranduil and Legolas and some other lords of his court, who were Sindar, considered the wood-elves akin to them.

"Well then, I hope your Silvan cousins are not too afraid of Drogon when they see him", she said with mirth in her eyes.

"That no one can promise", he replied, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

They rode for hours, had a brief stop at around noon for lunch and refreshment, and then they rode again. Although the trees and the ground were covered in snow, their journey so far had been blessed with fair weather, and it had not snowed again. Daenerys drew her fur-lined cloak tight around her body, for, though it was a sunny day, the cold was biting and the wind was unforgiving, when it blew.

By nightfall they had completed most of their journey, and the King estimated that by afternoon the following day they would reach their destination. Now tents were erected and fires were built, and the elves gathered around them for warmth, for the air was freezing. Hot broth was prepared on the fire, and as Daenerys took her bowl, she approached Thranduil and sat beside him.

"How is it that your son stayed behind?" she wondered.

"Someone has to look after the kingdom when I am gone", he replied with a smile. "Legolas knows the royal duties and performs them effectively, although he does not take pleasure in them. He never cared for the privileges of his royal birth either; he is a hunter in soul. He belongs out there, to the vastness of the wild world, and not to the confines of a palace and a crown", the King reflected.

"And you, Thranduil? Where do you belong?"

He met her violet eyes, which were looking at him with deep interest. "I am King", he simply said, his voice calm with the knowledge of his truth.

"Yes… but what would you like to be?" she persisted.

He cast his eyes low and remained thoughtful for a long while. He had been King for so many years that he did not remember how it was before he was that. He was a young Prince once, like his son was now. He was feisty in spirit, and quite belligerent, if he wished to be honest with himself. He loved his sword more than the scepter of the nobleman, and he wore his armor better than the silken robes of the councilor. But that was a long, long time ago. Then came the war and the dragons, the migration, and then war again and his father's death, and his mother's departure. All at once, in the blink of an eye, he found himself King upon a throne he never thought he would inherit – for his father loved to rule and seemed eternal on his high seat – and he had to live up to everyone's expectations. He had to painstakingly gather the remnants of his army and his people's courage and rebuild the Woodland Realm, with little help and even less guidance. Support, at least, he found aplenty, for the people loved him, and they put all effort in raising their homeland from the ashes, once the terror of the war had been left behind. But becoming King has not been his choice, it had not been a choice at all. It was a duty to take up his father's heavy mantle, and he did it obediently, respectfully, because he had to. But if he had a choice, if life had been kinder to him, what would he choose to be?

To his horror, he realized he had no ready answer to this question, for in all his endless years, he had never contemplated it before. "I do not know", he muttered, his eyes staring blankly into his bowl, where the broth had already gone lukewarm.

She reached for him then and touched his arm. "You never had a choice, did you?"

He turned his eyes to her, marveling at how well she could read him. "Never…" he sighed. "I am King of my people. This is what I am, what I know to be. Could I be a warrior, as I was in my first youth? Perhaps. Could I be a minstrel, as my mother once wished? Unlikely. Could I be a noble in Thingol's court, were the High King still alive and his kingdom of old still thriving? I do not know. And would I even be satisfied, were I someone else? Who can tell? These are hypothetical questions, and I have no answer."

Daenerys contemplated his words for a moment, drawing the parallel to herself. She was a Princess once, a Khaleesi next, and a Queen afterwards – at least in name. But she had chosen none of these roles. They were imposed to her by birth, by others, by destiny. But, although it had not been her choice, she wanted to be Queen. She wanted to claim her birthright and ascend on her father's throne. Thranduil seemed rather impassive in his stance. He became King because he had to; she sensed that he would have happily remained a Prince all his life, had his father survived the war. She sensed that deep inside him, although perhaps he himself did not quite realize it, all he wanted was to be a husband and a father, surrounded by loving people, receiving love and giving it back tenfold. But he had been cruelly deprived of this dream, and he had buried it so deep in his heart that he had forgotten it even existed. What would it take for it to stir and waken from its slumber?

She gave a light squeeze to his arm and let it go. "You are a good King, Thranduil. A just one, a noble one. But you are far more than just your title and position. You are a father, you have a tender heart but a fearsome temper, you yearn for things, but you do not dare name them…"

"Do you mean to say that I have raised walls around me?"

She nodded.

He looked away. The stars shone bright and silver in the deep blue sky, and a waning moon trembled behind a lone, passing cloud. "You have brought down some of these walls…" he whispered.

"You are not an easy fortress to conquer", she teased him, wishing to lighten the mood.

And she succeeded, as he turned to her with a side-smirk. "I will gladly surrender my keys to you, my proud, beautiful conqueror."

Their eyes were filled with longing for each other then, as they gazed at each other lovingly, and they wanted to kiss, but a public display of affection between them would cause a scandal for the Elvenking. And so Daenerys was first to avert her eyes, and Thranduil had to focus his attention elsewhere, too.

She re-adjusted her cloak, lifting the hood so as to half-cover her head. Then she extended her feet and hands towards the roaring fire. The heat was reaching her, even through her boots and gloves, and she loved the feeling. Thranduil observed her, as her eyes closed and her face relaxed. "Are you cold?" he asked quietly, touching her shoulder.

"Quite a bit… I am not used to such low temperatures", she told him with a small smile.

"Is it not cold in your Westeros?"

"To the far north, it is… But I have never been there. I have spent most of my life in Essos, where the climate is much warmer. The heat does not bother me, as you might have noticed", she said with a dose of sarcasm in her tone.

He let out a brief laugh. "I have noticed…"

"Look there", she said, pointing towards the moon, and Thranduil looked. A shadow flew before the bright crescent. Then it was gone, and then again it appeared. "Drogon. He likes to hunt at night."

He watched the black dragon as he flew in the distance. A couple of circles he made above the tree-tops, and then took to the north, as if he was trailing his prey. "He looks like a giant bat at night", Thranduil mused, smiling.

It was Daenerys' turn to laugh now. "Does he?"

"Well, he has those large wings… and he is black… but I fear the tail gives him away."

She turned to him then, looking a little worried. "Do you think your people of the villages will despise him?"

"They probably will… at first, at least. It is only natural. But all will be explained, and I hope that they will understand", he replied.

"I hope they will see he is not evil, as you saw it", she said.

He gave her an examining look under a raised brow. "You sounded more confident last night, when you persuaded me to allow you to take the dragon along."

She huffed. "Believing in something does not mean you cannot have some qualms about it", she retorted. "Your people must see the beasts that will fly to their aid, when the time of war arrives. And they must learn not to be afraid of them. But I never said this will be an easy task to accomplish."

He shook his head. "It will not be, but we had better make sure it does happen. I will not suffer an uprising", he warned.

"It will not come to that."

"I certainly hope so. Be sure to keep your dragon in check", he went on in the same uncompromising manner.

Daenerys looked again to the moon, where Drogon's shadow had been visible a few minutes ago. He was nowhere to be seen now. "I will", she said stubbornly, even though her adolescent dragons were not without their rebellious moments.

When she returned her eyes to Thranduil, he had risen to his feet. "I must bid you goodnight now. We have to sleep apart, for the sake of appearances. A tent has been readied for you, for whenever you wish to retire. Be sure to rest well. We shall ride at dawn."

At that he turned and strode away. She watched his retreating figure, long cloak billowing behind him as he went. She hated that they had to sleep in separate tents, but she understood the reasons behind it very well. It would be highly improper for the Elvenking to be seen with a mistress. _So unlike our own Kings,_ she mused bitterly. _Their beds are teeming with whores and mistresses, and they care not to honor their wives. They are even encouraged to behave thus… But not the elves. Never the elves._ And even though her heart wept for her brief separation from her lover, she would not have wanted him to be any other way.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The elves had gathered by the bank of the Celduin to meet their King, as they had been expecting his arrival. And with cheers of joy and applause he was greeted, as he rode in on his elk, followed by Daenerys and his host. He dismounted, trusting the reins to his squire, and marched forth to meet Celegon, who was first among the villagers and a keen archer in the Elvenking's army.

"Ai, hîr vuin Thranduil. Le nathlam na Duimbar!" Celegon announced merrily, and bowed low before his King.

"Hannon le, Celegon. Mae l'ovannen", Thranduil replied, inclining his head slightly.

"Tolo, govano ven, aran nín", said the dark-haired ellon as he led his King towards the elves, who were eager to meet him.

Daenerys followed with the rest of the host, and took a time to observe Celegon and the place around her. He was a quite tall and slim elf, with hair a deep chestnut brown, and smiling hazel eyes. He wore his hair in a long braid, with two smaller ones framing his face. Though perhaps he was not a very handsome elf, he was not unsightly either, as all elves possessed natural grace and fine features. His garb was of earthen hues, and his cloak was green and a little tattered. The elves around him were a merry folk, dark-haired mostly and dressed in similar colors as their leader. They looked unsophisticated in their manner, and nothing like the Sindarin elf lords of Thranduil's court. They were even simpler than their Silvan kin that dwelled in the Elvenking's Halls, and were in close contact with the Sindar daily. Daenerys watched Thranduil as he walked amongst them, and in her eyes he shone like a lone star, with his silver hair, grand stature and flowing, grey cloak.

The wood-elves had prepared a feast by the riverside to welcome their King. There were tents and long tables filled with food and beverages, but luxury was absent. As the King was shown to his designated seat, Celegon felt the need to speak. "I apologize, my lord, for the poor welcome. Would that it was that I had more to offer you but nuts and apples and turnips… But the times are harsh, and we do what we can to survive. Forgive our meagre feast, my lord."

But Thranduil waved his hand and shook his head. "You need not apologize, Celegon. I am not here to seek delicacies, for in my Halls I have had plenty. I am here to see to your troubles and offer you what help I can. My people have brought you provisions. See that they are put to good use", he said.

"Thank you, my lord. You are most generous", said Celegon, and after bowing once more, he took his seat next to the King. Then, he gestured for the minstrels to play their flutes and harps and the singers to sing, and soon the air was filled with the music of the wood-elves, who sang of the beauty of nature and the distant light of the stars, of maidens lost in the forest and their lovelorn knights, of the blooming of flowers and the passing of seasons.

Thranduil beckoned for Daenerys to sit beside him. She noticed Celegon's curious gaze as she walked to the table, but he was clever enough not to speak before his King.

"I would like you to meet Daenerys", the Elvenking began. "She is our ally."

"Daenerys? Such an unusual name…" he mused. "Welcome to our humble town, my lady", he said to her, and she nodded her thanks with a smile. "May I ask, where do you hail from?"

She looked at Thranduil briefly, and he gestured for her to speak. "It is difficult to explain, my lord. I come from another world."

The dark-haired elf was astounded to listen to her story for the next hour. At first he could not believe how what she narrated could ever be possible, but after his King vouched for the truth of Daenerys' words, he relented, and began to understand what she said. However, when she reached the part about the dragons, things were not that easy.

"Dragons, you say? And they are not evil?"

"No, my lord. My dragons are as wild as any beast, but they are not evil."

"Celegon", Thranduil interjected, "those dragons she speaks of have aided us already. They have saved our lives… And they will be our greatest defense against Sauron, when he strikes. You must trust me when I say this to you."

The elf looked at his King with disbelief, but soon his doubts melted away, as the Sinda maintained his serious look, and insisted on the benign nature of the dragons. And then a loud roar was heard in the sky, and all music and laughter ceased, as Drogon flew above the village and came and landed on the opposite side of the river.

Celegon and the other wood-elves jumped from their seats and rushed to see the dragon. But the King rose unhurriedly and went to them, and behind him followed Daenerys. "My good people, of this I just spoke to your leader. This woman, Daenerys Targaryen, is an outlander, but our ally in the war. And she has three dragons, which will aid us in our cause. Fear them not, for they are not evil." He then looked at Daenerys, and she took that as a prompt to speak.

"I come from another world, not that much unlike your own. And in my world there is magic, and dragons. But under unusual circumstances I found myself in Middle-Earth, for more than a year now. And I have my three dragons with me. It is as your King said: the dragons are not evil. You may remember the dragons of old of this world, who were the spawn of Ancalagon and servants of Morgoth. But my dragons are different. They will not seek to harm you, unless you seek to harm them. They are mine; they respect me, they listen to me, they obey me. I am their mother, for through searing flames I hatched them into the world. And your King has shown me much kindness and generosity, when he found me in the woods, alone and scared. And I intend to repay that kindness. I have pledged my help in the war against the Shadow. Take my words for true and spread them to your kin, everywhere in the forest. And whenever you see a dragon flying overhead, fear not, but be joyful, for together we shall defeat the darkness!"

Her voice had been ringing with passion, her eyes shone with their inner fire and her chest rose and fell with her breath of anxiety. Would she convince them of the truth? Would those elves listen to her or would they accuse her of falsity?

"My lord", a beautiful elleth said, as she stepped forth from the crowd. "Is it all as she says? Can it all be true? For it is a tale too hard to understand and accept."

"My noble Lhinniel, it is all as Daenerys says. I owe my life to her and her dragons. I know it sounds preposterous, but it is true. You have my word as your King. Will it not be enough for you?" Thranduil responded.

The elleth glanced at Celegon, and he shook his head. "Of course it will, my lord. It is not our place to question you. If you say the dragons are good, then they are." He had spoken those words as convincingly as he could, but still he could not tear his eyes from the black dragon on the other bank, who was now stooping and drinking water from the river. He observed the massive jaws and the folded wings and the hard scales, and he wondered how it could be that such a terrible beast was not evil. The dragon then lifted his head and looked at Celegon, and he recoiled.

"Daenerys has proved her loyalty to me many a time. You have my word that her dragons will not do you harm. Drogon, the back one is called. He is the only dragon that accompanied us on our journey. Respect him and leave him be, and all shall be well", said the Elvenking.

He returned then with Daenerys to his seat, and Celegon followed and sat alongside them. "Such a marvel you have brought us, my lord, except for provisions", he said, as he took a generous gulp of wine, in order to calm his nerves.

"Yes… It might take you some time to get used to the idea, but the dragon will not be staying here long, as we are to depart the day after tomorrow. I advise you to go about your business as you did before, and leave the beast alone", said the King, as he bit on a prune.

"You should not approach Drogon when I am not present, my lord", Daenerys told Celegon. "He might not know you for a friend…"

"I understand, my lady. It is sufficient for me to look at him from afar", Celegon muttered.

"Warn your people as well. Some might be more curious than you are", she went on.

"Of course, of course. I will have it known that nobody is to approach the dragon. Why, such a marvel you have brought us indeed!" he repeated, letting out the breath he was holding.

But Drogon himself allowed little space for inspection, as he soon took off to hunt for his dinner, and was lost from the eyes of the wood-elves. The King spent the hours of the afternoon conversing with Celegon and a few other elves that were responsible for the smooth running of things in Duimbar, and he listened to their problems and complaints and provided them with solutions. He oversaw the construction of watchtowers along the Celduin, and suggested that the eastern border should be better fortified, for the Easterlings had sided with Sauron, and that front might be open to attack in the coming months. For Thranduil expected more than random orc raiding parties and spider nests henceforth. He expected orcs riding on wargs, evil men, terrible beasts and an assortment of nameless roving threats, and he wanted his people to be ready for such assaults. He knew very well that his realm was the first and last frontier between the lands of darkness and the free north. If they fell, then soon the whole north would follow.

And when the night fell, he was feeling weary from his toil, and wished to rest. The Silvan elves showed him and his host to flets upon the trees. Climbing on them was no issue for the elves, but for Daenerys it was another matter entirely. So Thranduil came to her and helped her ascend the ladder to her flet, and held her hand all the way to the top, assuring her that she would not fall.

"Does this height scare you, beloved?" he asked her gently.

"I am not used to it", she replied, and clutched his hand tightly.

"You will be flying on a dragon's back one day", he pointed out.

She side-glanced at him. "It is not the same."

"I bet that will be much scarier."

She was ready for a retort, but his warm smile made her forget her words.

The tree upon which they climbed was the largest Daenerys had ever seen. Its trunk was several meters wide, and its branches as thick as the trunks of other trees. Tall it grew into the sky, and upon its boughs several flets were built, and were closed around with wooden walls like little rooms, here and there. Slender bridges of wood and rope spanned from one flet to another, and ladders connected the lower ones to those up high. The central flet, upon which they came as soon as the spiral staircase ended, was made in the likeness of a tavern, and several tables and chairs were there. Into a thick branch a bar was carved, and there was a maiden with an apron. "Greetings, my lord and my friends", she said joyfully. "This is the inn of Duimbar. Mallumorn we call it. Would you care for some refreshment, or would you rather retire to your rooms?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

Daenerys watched her as she spoke. Her hair was auburn in color and the unruly locks were tied into a thick braid on the crown of her head, while more tresses cascaded down her shoulders. She was tall and slim, as all elves were, but she looked strong and sturdy, and not as fragile as the ladies of the court. Her face was ruddy and her green eyes sparkled.

"I would never refuse your fabled cider, Rosswen. But if my people wish to retire, I will not object", Thranduil said, as he perched upon a wooden stool, his cloak draped all over it and reaching to the floor like a grey waterfall.

Some of the elves then were led to their rooms by the servants who came to help them, while others remained on the main flet with their King. Daenerys also chose to stay, intrigued by the unique sight around her, and also her curiosity for Rosswen's fabled cider. She went and took a seat opposite Thranduil, while the winter wind blew through the boughs. But, to her surprise, the flet was stable, and did not seem to sway.

"This is such a wonderful sight", she murmured, as she took in her surroundings. She was seated high atop a tree, upon which a small elven inn was built, and was about to taste some great liquor. _There are no such things in Westeros,_ she mused _. Who would live upon trees but the elves, who love nature so well?_

Soon Rosswen came with two pints of cider, and she lay them before them alongside a platter of assorted nuts. "It is the best we had produced in years, I promise you, my lord", she said proudly.

Thranduil took a sip, and shook his head in approval. "Indeed, Rosswen. Your cider grows better with each passing year", he told her.

Her smile widened. Then she turned to Daenerys. "And you, my lady? How do you find it? Do you have such sweet cider in your land?"

Daenerys tried it, and she found that she liked it a lot. "It is excellent my lady Rosswen. In my world we have a lot of beverages and beers and wines, but such a good one I have not yet tried", she said.

Pleased with the praise she had received, Rosswen bowed to her King and returned to her bar, as the other elves waited to be served. Thranduil looked at Daenerys and asked, "What do you think of the elves of Duimbar, Daenerys?"

She smiled. "They are an amiable folk. They lack, perhaps, the luster of the people in your Halls, but they are endearing in their own way, as are the people of the villages. I like their openness and generosity, and their readiness to share. And I like their innocence, even though they might be less wise and learned", she replied. "And this place, it is lovely. Who would ever think to construct little houses on huge trees? My eyes are filled with marvelous sights, and my heart is content."

The Elvenking nodded. "Yes, the village is nice. But if you think these crude flets are wonderful, I should one day take you to Lothlórien, where Galadriel and Celeborn rule. There you will behold the exquisite telain of the Galadhrim, which put to shame all other elven dwellings. Oh, Daenerys, the beauty of Lórien is unmatched, and it is a land unstained by evil. When the spring comes, I shall take you there to see the golden trees of the most beautiful elven realm there is", he decided.

"I would love that… I would love to travel, and see more of this world", she said.

"I know. I remember how you wish to travel. My duties might bind me to my Halls in the face of the oncoming war, but I may be able to take a small leave of absence, if all is well in the next months. We shall go to Lothlórien, Daenerys… But I fear you will never wish to leave, once you behold its majesty, and the grandeur of its Lady", he said in a sweet but slightly sorrowful tone.

Daenerys recalled having read much about Galadriel and her story. She was an enigmatic figure, who started out quite rebellious, but became wise as the years progressed. Even her beauty was legendary, for it was said that in her hair the light of Telperion and Laurelin was captured and reflected. Certainly a meeting with the ancient elven lady intrigued her, for she had seen the light of the Two Trees, and she would have extraordinary tales to tell.

She looked into his eyes then and smiled. "Would you allow it, if I indeed never wished to leave Lothlórien, as you say?"

He hesitated for a moment, but then said, "I would wish to have you by my side… But if that was your wish, I would not object… much."

His wording made her laugh. "Not much?"

"Your heart and life are yours to command, not mine. And I would never impose anything on you against your will. But, I would try to persuade you to come back with me, to my dark and murky forest, and to my deep, cavernous Halls… Though with what words I would manage to persuade you of this folly, I know not", he jested.

"You need not. My heart cares not for golden trees. Though I appreciate the beauty of nature, I am not an elf. I am a woman, and I would follow my heart's desire. Which would be to be with you. Do you think I would ever let go of you in favor of some golden leaves? You fool…" she said tenderly, and her hand on the table was a mere inch from his. Her heart cried for her fingertips to touch his, but she refrained from doing so. Public display of affection would be disapproved of, and it would upset her lover.

"My sweet Daenerys, how much I love you", he whispered to her, using her own tongue.

Pleasantly surprised, she looked at him under raised eyebrows. "Your High Valyrian has improved", she remarked.

"The lessons of late have not gone to waste", he continued in her tongue. "I wish… I wish I could visit your world one day."

"But that is not possible, Thranduil… The scroll of Sauron spoke of a blood sacrifice. This can never be", she firmly stated.

He nodded. "I know. But if there was another way…"

"We have discovered none other so far. So many ancient books I have read in your library, and they mention nothing."

"We shall search in other libraries… Imladris, Lórien, even Gondor. There may be something hidden there", he told her.

She shrugged. "Even so, the war comes first. I cannot journey far away now in search of answers. My dragons grow and they need to be better trained, if they are to be used in the war. All other matters must wait for after the war is over, if we survive it."

"Yes… you speak wisely." He emptied his goblet then, and made to stand. "I shall retire now. Do you wish to stay more, or are you tired?"

She rose as well. "I will follow you. It is cold up here, and I am tired indeed."

The Elvenking then walked to the bar and paid Rosswen in golden coin, which made her gape in awe and mutter a hundred thanks. The servants came then and led the pair to their respective rooms. Thranduil was given the largest room of the peculiar inn, and Daenerys' room was right below it. As soon as the elves were gone, he whispered to her, "I believe my own room is large enough for the both of us…"

She glanced around them. Everything looked dark and quiet. "Well… Go in now, and I may come to you in a while."

"Very well."

He stepped inside then and disposed of his cloak on the coat rack. There was a bed in the middle of the room, and it looked quite comfortable. He abandoned his sack of belongings on the small table and sat down on a chair to remove his boots. There was a tub in one corner of the room, and it was filled with hot water. _Kind Rosswen has seen to everything,_ he thought and smiled to himself. The room was warm, as hot water ran into pipes that went across the walls, and heat radiated from them. Thranduil proceeded to remove his clothes and then submerged into the welcoming embrace of the water. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift off, and he would have surely fallen asleep there, had it not been for a soft knock on his door.

"Yes?" he called.

"It is me", Daenerys whispered.

"Come in."

The room was dark and warm, and the air was fragrant with flowers and herbs. She found him in the tub, arms sprawled around the rim, and knees protruding from the surface. His head was tilted backwards, reclining against the tub, his hair was glistening wet, and his eyes were closed. But his face looked mellow, and a faint smile played upon his lips as he heard her step inside.

"Undress and join me", he invited her.

Soon her clothes became a pile on a chair, and she climbed into the hot water, her limbs meeting his. He re-adjusted his position a little, so as to make room for her, and she settled in his arms, her back against his chest. "It is nice in here, warm and welcoming", she murmured.

His fingers played with her hair lazily. "I would hate to have this luxury solely for myself."

She laughed softly, and then turned and dropped a feathery kiss on his lips. His eyes were still closed. "Are you sleepy, my lord?" she teased him, and her fingertips touched his chin, prompting him to look at her.

He did, and gazed at her through hooded eyes. "Only relaxed", he answered, as his arm snaked around her middle, pulling her to him. His touch caused goose bumps on her skin, and her nipples became instantly hard. That reaction did not pass unnoticed by him, and his fingers now grazed the underside of her breasts. Daenerys sighed softly, and rested her head against his shoulder. He bent and kissed the side of her neck then, the touch of his lips hot and wet as the water they bathed in. Her hand reached up and cradled the side of his head, and his silver hair cascaded like a waterfall on her arm, slick and shimmering like satin. He trailed his kisses along her jawline and her ear, and then back to her neck, while his hands crept upwards and cupped the supple flesh of her breasts. She moaned softly, relishing his ministrations, and felt him growing hard against her back. Her hand slid between their bodies then to touch him, and he gasped and trembled as she did. But his own hand descended between her legs and paid her in kind, and soon he had her withering and panting in her arms with torrid desire.

"Now… please…" she breathlessly begged of him, and he moved beneath her, guiding himself to her entrance. In one smooth motion they were joined, and he held her tightly against him. When he took up a slow rhythm, confined by his position beneath her and the narrowness of the tub, she found that it was not enough for her. She bent forward then and braced herself on the rim of the tub, and began moving atop him in the pace she had chosen, and her pants and gasps broke the silence of the room. Thranduil watched her ecstatically as she danced, her silver locks swaying and caressing her shoulders every time she met his pelvis. His fingers traced the curve of her spine, now tense with erotic anticipation, and he sat up to reach and fondle her breasts once more. That served to drive Daenerys over the edge, and she shattered around him violently, water splashing and her knuckles white from their hard grip on the rim. He kissed her temple as she rode of the waves of her pleasure, and then moved inside her again. She was soft and pliant now, and he gently turned her a bit to the side, so that she propped herself against the tub, and he had some little space to thrust in and out of her. His efforts and her heated state caused her to climax once more, before finally he did as well, tensing against her like a bowstring.

And afterwards they rested in each other's embrace, but only until they began kissing and touching each other again. Several times they were joined in their passion that night, and when at last they decided to move out of the bathtub and into the bed, the hot water had turned tepid.

* * *

Translations

Ai, hîr vuin Thranduil. Le nathlam na Duimbar = Hail, beloved lord Thranduil. We welcome you to Duimbar (Sindarin)

Tolo, govano ven, aran nín = Come, join us, my king (Sindarin)


End file.
